Old Wounds
by Rundas Prime1
Summary: Jack and Winston head to the Middle-Eastern war zone hoping to recruit Dr. Angela Ziegler, aka Mercy. Winston must unite a fractious new team if they hope to succeed in a harrowing battle with Talon. Jack quickly learns that old wounds never heal, and some don't fade away. (Overwatch: Ultimate - Part Two.)
1. Part 1

I

Captain Fareeha Amari, call-sign, Pharah, of Helix Security, was helpless. Stripped of her armor, her men, and even movement. Her companion, Dr. Angela Ziegler's once white armor was now smeared with brown ash and red blood, and she was carrying Fareeha on her shoulders, her footsteps each growing heavier and weaker than her last.

Fareeha wished that Angela would just drop her, save herself, but that just wasn't in the doctor's nature. Fareeha couldn't imagine what was going through the doctor's mind. She thought back to the slaughter. Angela had told them. She'd told them that it was a horrible idea. The Omnium's defenses were too strong for them the way it was, and with Talon attacking from the other end, it was made hopeless. But it was all they had. They were the only two left.

Fareeha's Raptora combat armor would have given them a better chance of escape, but it was destroyed. Not that she'd have been able to use it, as doped up as she was on painkillers. Angela's Caduceus staff, normally capable of healing any wound, had also been damaged, rendering it useless.

Exhausted, Angela finally fell to her knees, dropping Fareeha onto the dusty, ashen glass. The glass didn't break, it just felt like a rock hitting Fareeha's face.

"Doctor," rasped Fareeha, rolling over onto her back. She was going for strong, but her hoarse voice wouldn't make it so. "You have to go."

"No," Angela snapped. She got back up onto her trembling legs. Pushing herself again to her very limit. One day, Fareeha knew, she would go too far. It might be today. "No one else dies tonight."

A rattling shriek echoed through the dusty glassed craters. Fareeha and Angela alike snapped to attention.

"One of them followed us," said Fareeha. She grabbed the grip of the pistol on her hip and tried to stand, but she failed, dropping on her injured side. Another blast of pain pulsed to her head and another to her torso where the dust invaded her wound.

Angela propped her back up against the smooth wall of the crater, "You're too drugged to stand, much less fight. Stay here, Fareeha, I'll check it out." The doctor's warm bedside manner hadn't taken any hits from the dreadful situation. Fareeha wondered how she did it.

"What will you do? You're not a fighter, Doctor."

Angela shrugged, nervously watching the shadows. "Hell of a way to start, no?"

She jammed her staff into the ground next to Fareeha, then took out her pistol. It was her own design, intended to be stored and concealed completely in her armor. Angela looked out over the edge of the crater. Fareeha heard skittering, and loud clanking. She knew what was coming.

A single sharp metal arachnid leg stepped over the edge of the crater, followed by seven more appendages attached to a cockpit housing a desiccated skeleton, hanging several feet above the ground. The empty missile pods on the sides of the chassis glowed, swirling green and purple, blinking like eyes. When it noticed them, it advanced relentlessly, making that same horrible shriek as before. The cockpit dropped open, like a bellowing animal's jaw. The corpse inside it's 'mouth' jerked about in its restraints before the cockpit slammed back shut, snapping off its leg.

Angela shot the 'body' of the creature to little effect, only managing to make black energy burns on the hull. Fareeha did the same from her sitting position, the tungsten projectile passing through harmlessly. It appeared that the robot didn't care at first, but it quickly targeted Fareeha, raising one of its bladed limbs above her.

With a flash of green and white, the leg dropped to the ground, and the monstrosity squealed in a facsimile of pain. Its leg had been cut straight through.

A silver being stood on the edge of the crater, wielding a sword with a green edge. Genji. He'd survived too. With three more leaping slashes, he removed the other appendages. Just when they though it was done, a blast of blue fire consumed the immobilized remains, and Fareeha saw another figure on the edge of the crater, a red visor shining in the dust.

They came down into the crater at once.

"Ziegler." They both said. She recognized the newcomer's voice immediately, despite his hidden face.

Fareeha's mouth dropped open in shock. "Did… Jack Morrison just save us from a zombie tank? I think you're right, Doctor. You may have given me too many drugs."

 _..._

 _Doctor_ Angela Ziegler. It had been years since she graduated medical school, but something about that title still made her giddy. Ever since she was a child, the medical profession had captured her mind. The practice of finding and applying new ways of saving lives was something that never lost its charm or nobility.

She checked herself over again. Everything in place. This had to go perfectly. She had the job, that wasn't in question, but she found that first impressions were invariably important. She wondered what the wide-eyed child Angela would think about what she was on her way to do. This empty train was taking her to an island off the coast of Gibraltar, one claimed by the neophyte organization known as Overwatch. Even the name was slightly ominous.

Joining the ranks of those who considered themselves the watchers of he watchmen wasn't a decision she liked, or one she made lightly, but it was the right one. She could run a non-profit cancer clinic in a third world country for her whole life, it wouldn't have mattered for her. But that would have meant that she wasn't at the fore. She would have been fighting a symptom, when she had an opportunity to learn how to stop the cause. That was truly unconscionable.

So she'd play their game. She'd take whatever rank they gave her, play soldier for a while. She knew it might not be easy, but she could maneuver around the structure, maybe even do some long-lasting good.

The train came to a stop, and she took one last long breath before opening her eyes and entering the fray. She stepped off the train. The Watchpoint was one large white building, as tall as a skyscraper against the breezy tropical beauty of the island. She imagined a painter committing this image to canvas. What would he think? Of this melding of industry and nature, of dueling mights of men and fauna. Maybe her poetry electives stuck with her better than she thought.

"Dr. Ziegler," someone said, pulling her fully out of her reverie. "It's an honor to introduce you to the headquarters."

It was Supreme Commander Jack Morrison, at his side was his second, Special Vice-Commander Gabriel Reyes. It wasn't the first time she'd met the two, but it was the first time on their turf.

" _Guten tag,_ " she said, slipping into her native tongue. She stuttered for a moment at her silly mistake, recalibrating her mind back to English.

" _Guten tag, Frauline Ziegler,_ " said Reyes warmly. Angela blushed and looked down.

Jack scolded his second jokingly, "Couldn't wait for a chance to show off, could you?"

Reyes only smiled. It wasn't an interaction between dueling administrators vying for authority, it was skirting the limits of professionalism. They were just friends. The air of intimidating propriety from their previous meeting was gone.

"Good morning," she said in English. She was so far out of her timezone that it felt like the furthest thing from morning. By saying it, perhaps she thought it would start to feel that way.

Reyes extended his hand with a friendly smile. Something bothered her about the Vice-Commander, but she couldn't put a finger on it. She took the hand and shook it.

"We thought we'd give you the tour personally," Morrison said, putting forth his own hand. "I was going to take a walk anyway, make sure the kids are behaving."

Reyes gestured with his hands in an exaggerated manner that spoke, 'be our guest.' And Angela followed.

As they passed through the yard, Angela saw soldiers going through… Drills, she thinks that's what they were called. Sweaty men and women crawled through mud like beetles. A simply colossal man with a white mane and beard watched and encouraged them to move faster.

Morrison must have noticed that Angela was staring.

"That bother you or something?" Reyes said. His tone wasn't the least bit accusatory. It as like he was commenting on the weather.

Angela wanted to speak her mind, but worried she might seem ungrateful.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," said Morrison. "A standing military like this rubs a lot of people the wrong way. Hell, even our people." Morrison explained it like a father explaining why the butterfly wasn't moving anymore.

"You're… the one who said it, I suppose," Angela said, she moved her hand up to brush her hair behind her ear, but there was no hair out of place.

"I don't like it," Morrison said. "Peace is all I want. War is shit, but someone's got to do it."

"We're not at war," said Angela. "I- I didn't mean…"

"He knows what you meant," Reyes said. He pointed out to the field. "Reason we have all this, is because some people don't. They don't have a strong military, but they have military problems. Terrorists, rebels. That's where we come in. We can get in faster than anyone. UN sanctioned peacekeepers practically overnight."

"People who couldn't get help otherwise," Jack said. "They can have power and defenses thanks to what we do."

Angela paused, her knuckles pressing into her lips. Violence was unacceptable. That hadn't changed, never would. But the world had. Governments were thrown into disarray by the Crisis. Who knew how many maniacs were vying for power, looking to fill the void that was left. Overwatch filled that void instead. Angela believed that there must be a way to maintain stability that didn't involve gun-barrel diplomacy, she had to believe that. But maybe they really were doing the best they could.

"Hey Reiny!" Reyes shouted. "You're a shit drill sergeant!"

Morrison chuckled, and half-heartedly teased, "Out of line, Reyes."

'Reiny's' belly laugh could be heard even from across the yard. He gestured with a thumbs up and started shouting at the recruits again. These people didn't act like any military unit she'd ever heard of. They'd never once treated each other like anything but brothers. Angela wondered if the Overwatch that she'd seen on the news, the one the world saw, was a mask. One to show the public to be symbol of hope and stability. A mask for the UN to show a group capable of decisive strength. They were people, Angela realized. People doing whatever they could think to do in service to better future.

For a moment, Angela smiled in earnest. Maybe Overwatch wasn't what she thought it was. Maybe working here wouldn't be as bad as she thought it would be.

...

Jack carried Fareeha and followed Angela back to the camp. At several points during the journey, Jack was certain that Fareeha's gaze passed over Ana Amari, her mother, who was walking beside them. Every time, though, Fareeha looked away and made no comment, as if betting that seeing her dead mother watching over her was a drug-induced hallucination. Once, Jack thought he heard Fareeha mutter, "Go away. Back to sleep."

Jack wasn't sure he'd have reacted much differently. He hadn't considered this. He knew that Overwatch would, at some point, cross paths with Fareeha. Fareeha would find out that Ana wasn't dead. He should have thought of it, but he didn't think it would come up so soon.

Not many were left in the camp. The security operatives that remained equaled Jack's team in number, 6. The first stop was the infirmary. It was a sizable trailer bearing the logo of Helix Security International, colored metallic sky-blue. Dormant repulsor jets on the underside informed Jack that it was capable of moving. These days, governments could fly in entire military infrastructures in a night. Not wanting to crowd the place, Winston thought it best if most of the team stayed outside. Jack asked Ana if she'd like to come. To his surprise, she shook her head. Jack made a mental note to talk to her later. Jack and Winston followed the women inside.

Angela sat Fareeha down on a bed and gave her a biotic syringe. Her wounds closed nearly instantly. No matter how many times Jack saw that, he wasn't any less impressed. Without skipping a beat, Angela plopped the broken Caduceus staff onto her tool bench across the room and set to work. Winston followed her over, recommending tips for making her tech more durable. She smiled and nodded, though completely focused on her task.

"No rest for the altruistic, huh?" said Jack.

"Can't afford to be," said Angela. "We don't have a lot of time."

"Then I'll make this quick. We need you back."

Mercy chuckled, stopping. "And there it is."

"You see what's happening out there," Jack said, "Talon's turning peaceful places into combat zones indiscriminately. They're tearing the world apart. We need every hand we can get to stop them."

"So not that much different from thirty years ago, is it?" Angela said.

"No, I don't think so," said Jack.

"What is it you plan to do?" Angela swiveled her stool around, facing Jack and standing. "After this crisis is abated? Dissolve again and let world affairs take their course? Or are you going to try and take over again?"

" _Take over?_ " said Winston. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Jack's brow furrowed invisibly. He wondered whether the mask hiding his emotions helped or hurt him. But this was strange. Overwatch never tried to take over anything. That was Reyes' anti-establishment propaganda talking. Angela wasn't stupid enough to buy that, was she? Jack stayed silent, letting her make her case further. Argument was about listening.

Angela stood. "After the Crisis, the UN just couldn't stop giving Overwatch more funding, more autonomy, more power. Signing away freedom for security. Supplemented of course, by your less-than legal activities. The confiscations, bounty hunting, etcetera. At the end of its life, Jack, did you realize that Overwatch had enough military might to challenge countries?"

Winston painfully defended, "We… Didn't. We never had any intention to do anything like that. Jack would never do that."

Angela tilted her head to the side briefly. "Perhaps not. But Jack wasn't going to live forever. We _assumed,_ anyway. But your successor? His successor? Somewhere down the line, Jack, someone would have abused that power. That is, of course, conceding to the notion that you never did."

"Angela, that's enough," Jack said.

She spoke to Winston. "Why don't you ask Jack, hm? Ask Jack what happened in Japan. While you're at it, ask where Captain Amari got her rifle."

"Jack, Winston," said Fareeha, "I… think it's best we leave this for another time."

"I think you're… I think you may be right.

Jack left the building. Angela was being delusional. He'd always known that the doctor was opposed to the military origin and resulting structure of Overwatch from day one, before she even joined. She took a leap of faith and confidence to even enter the fold. Jack wanted to prove to her more than anything that despite its origins in war, Overwatch was a force for peace. He could see an outsider being paranoid about Overwatch's intentions, especially after Reyes did his best to defame the organization, but her? She was the furthest thing from an outsider.

Jack, still puzzling this over, was intercepted by Genji. And Jack remembered.

"You tried to get her to come back, didn't you?" the cyborg said. His mask had become a second face, somehow translating his concerned expression underneath. But maybe that was just Jack's imagination.

"That obvious?" Jack said, wondering if his own mood was just as readable to Genji.

"I have been trying for days. And I have become very well acquainted with that particular disappointment."

"She's…" Jack started. The memories weren't stopping now, he wished they would. He got the picture. "She's still hurt. By… Well…"

"By me?" Genji said, his tone carried not a hint of sharpness. "By what was done to me?"

"Yeah," Jack said, scratching his scalp. "What are you doing here?"

"I have been traveling," said Genji. He didn't seem to mind changing the subject. "Talking to people. Hoping they will join us to fight whatever is coming."

"Us?"

"Overwatch."

"Huh. You're the last one I thought would be trying to recruit for us. Considering everything."

Genji's mask emoted nothing now, but his voice was calm. "I am a different man now, Jack. I am whole."

Jack clicked his tongue. He wished he could say the same. "Is there… There's got to be some hope, right? I haven't dug myself that deep, have I?"

"Forgiveness is something that is not demanded, won, or even earned," Genji said. His light tone of personable arrogance slipped into an almost sagely reverie. Genji was right. He was different. "It's given. Some do, some do not. It is her decision."

After Jack didn't speak for a few moments, Genji hesitantly went on his way. Jack thought about everything. If the situation with Angela and Genji, and their difficulties on the battlefield weren't enough, now there was her and himself, and Ana and Fareeha. Jack had walked into a terrible situation like he'd owned it, then found out he hadn't, and turned a bad situation into the worst it could probably be. And now Winston was saddled with untangling it.

Goddamn it, Jack thought. I am an asshole.

...

Angela had heard it said that a visitation from her was the medical profession's equivalent of the circus coming to town. Her procedures were light-years ahead of any other facility, so utterly state-of-the-art, that doctors took such a visitation as a chance to watch a master at work, taking as many notes as possible. She told herself that these advances she'd made weren't the result of anything she was that anyone else wasn't. She just happened to be the doctor who Overwatch liked very much and gave a lot of money to. She let them have their angel, though. Morale was important when they were surrounded by the dying.

In Angela's heart, she wanted to be there for every patient, but she couldn't be everywhere at once. So, she determined to travel as much as possible. When she heard of the special project Morrison and Reyes were running jointly in Japan, she used it as an opportunity.

Like many nights, the Hanamura General Hospital was quiet and calm. One man was enough to change that. When he'd arrived, he was little more than meat and tubes. His innards were practically paste. If she had to guess what caused it, she'd say a magnetic shrapnel explosive detonated inside his body. A small fleet of machines were performing his bodily functions in place of his demolished organs, keeping his brain alive. Even that wasn't going to last long if his internal bleeding wasn't stopped. No one knew if even she could do it. She didn't know herself. But she had to try.

The next hour was a focused rush. Angela managed to get him stable, but just barely. His organs had to be replaced with synthetic ones, his torso bones with carbon fiber equivalents, both raided from Overwatch's top-secret storage. She didn't technically have the clearance to use that kind of tech on non-Overwatch personnel, but she wasn't about to let bureaucracy kill a man. Even so, widespread damage had already occurred to his nervous and muscular systems. He'd live, but without further treatment, he'd never walk again.

The other doctors had to practically drag her out of the OR. They said she should rest before doing anything else. She disagreed, but she let them have their way. After removing her blood-stained scrubs, she slumped in the comfy chair in her office and felt like she was sitting on a cloud. Even if she wasn't operating, that didn't mean she had to sit about doing nothing.

She booted up her computer, and began typing out a formal request to Overwatch command. "Rrrequessittioning extra ssuppply off-"

Angela stopped and squinted at the input on her screen. She finally looked down at her hands, trembling too violently to even type, with rings of barely dried blood on her wrists. Her eyelids felt suddenly heavy, as if they were reminded by her fingers of how tired they should be. She sunk deeper into her chair. Maybe they were right, Angela thought. Maybe a quick rest would be fine.

An instantaneous knock on the door woke Angela up. Or would have, if she'd gotten a moment to sleep.

"Come in," she mumbled. Or tried to. She sounded like a drunk. "Come in." She said again, clearer and louder.

The two men that entered were men Angela knew well. Supreme Commander Jack Morrison, and Special Vice-Commander Gabriel Reyes. They were both starting to get streaks of grey in their hair, but their bodies showed no sign of slowing similarly. She wondered briefly if the scientists at the Soldier Enhancement Program were aware of all the little changes their planned changes made to their physiology.

"You have time to talk, Doctor?" Jack asked. Though Angela suspected from the tone of his voice that it was a good idea for her to make time. He'd gotten more like this in recent years. More demanding. Angela wasn't happy about this, but she sympathized. Stress was probably turning the Supreme Commander's hair grey faster than old age.

"Of course," Angela said, "come in."

Morrison and Reyes stood in the room, both glanced at the visitor's chair briefly, but neither claimed it.

After a moment, Reyes sat down easily in it, as if he owned it. "Doc," he said.

"I'm glad you're here, actually," said Angela. "I needed to ask you both for something."

Reyes raised his eyebrows in amusement, but his eyes were hollow. Reyes' facial expressions, no matter how animated, never seemed to make it to his eyes. After all these years, it didn't bother Angela anymore, at least not consciously.

"It wouldn't happen to do with your star patient, would it?" Reyes said.

Angela was sure she understood, but she asked for clarification anyway. "Who?"

"The one you diverted practically every hospital resource to within the past hour," Reyes explained. He flashed a personable smile. "I keep tabs on that, you know."

"I plan to divert a few more," Angela said, "I need clearance to use Overwatch classified prototypes. It may be the only way to let him walk again."

Morrison and Reyes nodded to each other in some unspoken secret code. "You'll get it," said Reyes. "On a few conditions."

A blaze of anger rose in Angela's chest. She resisted the intense urge to call them out for putting a price on a man's life. That wasn't what they meant. Couldn't be. "Conditions?" she asked, calmly.

"He helps us bring down the Shimada clan," Jack said. "We help him, get him back on his feet, and he helps us."

Angela knew she was missing a crucial detail. "Who… Who is this man?"

The two heads looked at each other again, Morrison looked confounded, Reyes like she hadn't said anything unusual at all.

"That's Genji Shimada," Reyes said. "He's our hope. He's the guy who gets us deep enough into the clan to cut off its head."

"Forcing him to turn against his own family in exchange for his life? There's another way," Angela disagreed. "We don't have to resort to blackmail."

"Extortion," corrected Reyes, conversationally. Morrison winced slightly and rolled his eyes. "Blackmail would be revealing secrets, not withholding resources."

Angela took a moment to catch her breath. "And you're okay with it either way?"

"This is what needs to happen," said Morrison. "We offer him the deal. We give him the surgery in exchange for his help."

Angela put her face in her hands, smelling the metallic dried blood on her wrist. It mixed with the tight feeling of fear, and of guilt. This wasn't what she wanted. She signed up to save people, not extort them.

"I can't," Angela said. She was about to explain further but Jack leaned forward, startling her back upright. For the first time, she saw something scary in his eyes. A thousand-yard stare that pierced through her. Even Reyes seemed shocked.

"Let _me_ tell _you_ what _can't_ happen," Jack said. His voice was suddenly very low. "This war can't keep going."

"We're not at war," Angela asserted, but Jack talked over her.

"There is a fucking war on, Angela. You don't see it because the victims don't come here, they go to the morgue. Understand? People are dying out there and we have a chance to stop it. You aren't keeping your hands clean. You turn this down, more people die while we wait for another chance. Those people will die _because of you._ "

Angela's jaw loosened, her throat grew tight with dread. She could barely believe he spoke those words. She couldn't find fault with the motivations, but with the act itself. "Just… Jack listen to yourself," she said. "Who are we? Who do we become if we do this?"

Jack didn't hesitate for a moment. "We are the glue that holds the world together. That hasn't changed. We're whatever the world needs us to be. You don't like it? _I_ don't like it. None of us do, but this has _got_ to happen. This _has_ to end."

Angela was quiet for a while. She'd been a fool for thinking she'd escaped this. She'd let herself fall into the trap, become comfortable on the adder's nest. Was this who she was now? Who she was being forced to be? "I'll talk to him," she said, looking up. She did it, not that she'd arrived at any decision, more out of placation and worry. She needed time to think, to rest. Time to wake up, in case this was just a bad dream or paranoid hallucination.

Without so much as a final comment, Jack left, breathing heavily. Reyes stayed, realizing he'd forgotten something. "You'll get your clearance," Reyes said, like that was what mattered, then followed his commander.

Outside, Gabriel said something Angela couldn't quite hear, putting his hand around Jack's arm. Morrison jerked it away and said something loudly, something like, "I got it _done."_ And he stormed away.

Looking back, that might have been the start of everything.


	2. Part 2

II

Fareeha brought the team to the briefing room. Jack scratched his forehead, looking at the holographic battle map Fareeha had brought up. It depicted the Omnium in its center, surrounded by the ruins of its self-sustained campus, where the scientists and the technicians of the Omnium made their home. It was in the center of a defunct industrial park, unable to be sustained without the Omnica Corporation's income. The buildings became increasingly unstable and ruined the closer they were to the omnium, the campus was almost entirely destroyed, but the Omnium itself was intact. Like a colossal chrome microscope rising from the apocalyptic environs.

"So, while we and Talon are both fighting a two-front battle," Fareeha explained, standing in front of the holo-table, "neither of us are getting anywhere closer to the Omnium. Or the people inside. And to make matters worse, Talon's brought in outside help, a couple of highly dangerous maniacs in addition to their own sizable force. Caution will be imperative."

"What about the UN?" Winston asked. "Why aren't they stopping this?"

"We _are_ the UN," Fareeha clarified. "The UN hired Helix. After our success in the Anubis incident."

"Anubis incident?" Jack said. He forced his finger not to shake. "Then you mean, the berserk robots…"

"God Program," Fareeha said, hiding her own nervousness. "I was getting to that."

God Program. Jack remembered. They'd run the omniums, building Omnics, repairing and expanding the facilities themselves. They all went rampant, and the Omniums turned against humanity. The rest was history. The God Programs were the very reason Overwatch existed.

"This isn't within the capabilities of a God Program," Jack said. "They can assume direct control of Omnics, but don't they need an intact brain… Whatever Omnics have instead of brains to do that? How is it resurrecting dead robots?"

"I've never seen anything like this," admitted Winston. "It's possible that it has the ability to repair processing units and intelligence matrices. Maybe nanotech? I'd like to- Well, study it, but we… Probably don't have time."

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but stopped. Winston was right. Jack himself wouldn't spend a lot of time on it. But this wasn't Jack's command anymore. "That depends on you" Jack said, "You're the leader. Knowing more about this thing could help us. It's your call."

Angela looked around, "You're acting like… You're part of the plan?"

"You don't have that many men left," Winston said. "And people's lives are at stake. We aren't leaving."

"I think what Winston's trying to say," said Jack, "Is that you need a few heroes right now."

With an eyebrow raised, Fareeha said, "That we could."

"I think I need to… Think on this. Come up with something." Winston looked to Jack.

"That's your call," Jack said. "But too long, and we give Talon time to break through that line and take the objective."

"You're right. You're right." Winston mumbled. He adjusted his glasses and wandered away, lost in thought.

"Meeting… Adjourned, I suppose?" said Genji.

"Yeah," Jack said. He watched Winston head out of the room, muttering to himself as he always did when considering a complex problem. "He needs time to get used to this."

Angela crossed her arms. "You mean being the leader? Last time I checked, that was you, Jack."

A sour dryness coated Jack's mouth. He'd relived mortifying and disturbing memories. The way his mind was going, there were sure to be many more coming. Jack swallowed silently, grateful again that his face was covered. "Last time _I_ checked," Jack said. "That didn't work out so well."

…

Heading back to the Orca, Jack found Fareeha, looking at the inside.

Fareeha noticed his footsteps and turned to face him. Her face was stony, though it was flushing red. "Oh, Commander Morrison."

"Ex-commander, actually. Not sure what I am, really. Winston never did really give us ranks."

"My apologies," Fareeha said, "for snooping."

"It's alright. I'm just… Thinking. Figured there wouldn't be anyone else here."

"I can leave if you want."

"No, no, actually, there was something."

Jack noticed the object that Fareeha had fixated on, the basketball hoop.

"See something you like? You play?"

Fareeha chuckled. "Not in a very long time."

"Let's shoot a few," Jack said, removing his jacket and mask. He tossed them over the back of a chair. Truth be told, he was itching for anything to get his mind off the memories.

"Right now? Here?"

"Athena, get us a ball," Jack grabbed one from the rack that slid out of the wall. "Moving helps thinking, in my experience." He passed the ball, Fareeha caught it, "Might help yours."

"Alright then," said Fareeha with a girlish smile, the first Jack had seen since he'd gotten there. She dribbled the ball once, getting a feel for it, then again. Jack walked over to under the hoop.

Her stance was momentarily unsure, but it came back to her. She tossed the ball, and it went in. Jack did nothing to stop it.

"Can't jump in your old age?" Fareeha teased. "Or does there always need to be a doctor in distress to motivate you?"

Jack smirked, catching the bouncing sphere. "Thought I'd give you a free one, see how rusty you are. I'll have to go easy on you." He passed the ball back.

"Oh, it's on now." Fareeha tossed the ball again. Jack leapt three feet and caught it right out of the air. He spun it on his finger. "Show off," Fareeha said.

"I'm not even started yet. Switch." Fareeha stood under the hoop, Jack dribbled the ball, strafing around her. "You talked to your mother yet?"

"Thought we were playing basketball."

"I can still multi-task. And you're being defensive."

"I haven't had time. I've been busy."

"Busy checking out my ship?"

Jack shot the ball. Fareeha's fingers brushed it, and it spun around the hoop for a moment before falling down. Fareeha retrieved it. "Does it matter? I'll talk to her… When I talk to her."

"It matters," said Jack, catching Fareeha's pass, "because I want everyone having a clear head this mission."

He shot. She intercepted, slapping the ball in her hands. "Thought Winston was the leader. Isn't he supposed to be in charge of that?"

"Would you talkto _him?_ "

"Switch," she said, tersely. The pass stung Jack's hands. "I don't- She lied to me. Pretended she was dead for years. She lied to you too, if you remember."

"I remember," Jack said. "But she's your mother. If I saw mine again… Well, I'd act differently."

"Mine isn't yours." Fareeha groaned, "Look… I don't know. You going to play or what?"

Jack suddenly swiveled, maneuvering around Fareeha, laying the ball up right into the hoop, retrieving it himself. "Don't know about what?" Pass.

Fareeha was unsettled by Jack's sudden movement, and his question. "I don't know… How I'm supposed to feel about this…" Her dribbles were undisciplined, forceful. Her gaze hardened. "Even before everything," she panted, flitting about the court, "She never approved. Never wanted me in Overwatch. Figured she was thrilled up there when it disbanded before I got the chance. But she never was 'up there,' was she?"

"She didn't want you in the Watch," Jack said. "Why do you think that was?"

"She didn't think I could do it," Fareeha guessed. She changed the subject back to her rage, regressing. "She betrayed me. _Us._ Plain and simple. Backed out of a life she thought she was too deep in, doing anything to get out. It was cowardice."

When she advanced on the hoop, Jack slapped the ball right out her grasp. "What about now?" Jack said, hoping to refocus her.

Fareeha growled. "Now I just hope things could be… Different. Maybe after all I've done for Helix, everything I've made of my life. I hope I could prove her wrong." She sighed. "But she's stubborn like you. I know my odds." She went to grab the ball, holding her head.

Jack ponderously watched the ball teeter on the floor. "You want to know what I think? I think you already have."

"What?" Fareeha said. Jack walked over to a chair and lowered himself into it, wiping his brow. " _Jack._ "

He poured himself a cup of water. "Talk to her, Amari. You'll see what I mean." Fareeha placed the ball on the rack. She stared at him expectantly. But Jack only said, "Play those odds."

…

Winston stared at a tiny map on his hand terminal, trying to parse out the situation. It was as Fareeha had said. A two-front battle, one that Talon had a lot more resources to throw at. It was the red tape, Winston realized, that was the UN's and thus Helix's downfall. Talon was ruthless and singular. By the time the UN knew to send more forces, it had already lost what little ground they'd gained.

The ape's colossal fingers slipped under his glasses, and he rubbed his eyes. Winston started to remember the golden days back when he and Lena were just recruits, grease monkeys in the R and D, and Jack was in charge. Jack could look at a situation like this and have a solution in seconds. If that fell through, he could have another in short order. Why he wasn't doing that now was anyone's guess.

Something was off about him now. His will was no longer iron. It had been at their first reunion, but one entanglement with Reaper was enough to change that. Jack's eyes were hollow now, defeated. He was still there, but he couldn't trust himself anymore. Was that it? This situation with Angela had thrown him off even further. Winston hadn't expected that kind of hostility. He'd never known Angela to be hostile to anyone.

"Winston," said Athena, her synthetic voice echoing in the entire room.

Winston jumped in shock. After calming down briefly, he said, "Please, just use one speaker."

Her voice was now limited to the terminal. "Better?" she said.

There was a knock at the door. Winston knew what Athena had been about to say, so he pointedly said nothing. He answered the door. Genji.

"Greetings," said the ninja.

"Oh, come in," Winston said. "I was just about to _take a break._ " He said, looking at Athena's speaker.

Genji's head tilted sideways in a quizzical, slightly amused expression. "Is… Everything…?"

"Yes," said Winston. "Everything is fine. Have a seat."

Genji obliged, and stepped into the small corner of the machine shop that Winston had taken to staying in. The noise from the shop was deadened significantly by a shielding device Winston had set up in the door.

"Soo…" Winston said, dragging. "What's up?"

Genji laughed personably. "Zombie omnics, old friends, old enemies, old wounds," he said. "Too much."

Winston chuckled back. "You don't have to tell me twice."

"Specifically, I thought it would be a good thing for me to talk to everyone," said Genji. "Before we inevitably go back in there. I would hate for our first conversation in more than half a decade to be on a battlefield."

Truth be told, Winston was finding this a bit awkward. Back when they were both in the Watch, they'd barely said more than a dozen words to each other at a time, and not just because they were in completely different divisions. Even when Winston had helped Angela install Genji's implants, the prodigal Shimada been unconscious most of the time.

Genji broke the silence. He was better at this sort of thing than Winston was, it seemed. "So… Athena. I've heard you talking to her. She your computer?"

"I am right here," Athena said.

Genji cleared his throat. "My apologies. Ma'am." He said, hesitantly adding the Ma'am. "So Athena is… _You are…_ an Intelligence? Like an omnic?"

"That is correct," she said. "Exactly like an omnic."

Winston was unsure of Athena's intention, skirting so close to the truth but avoiding it. Genji remained comfortable.

"Most people are a bit more surprised," said Winston.

Genji shrugged. "How is she going to feel about staying behind? She can't get close to that thing."

"She isn't," Winston clarified, though Genji had not made an unreasonable assumption. A God Program could take control of synthetic intelligences just as easily as it could a wi-fi router. But Athena was no ordinary SI. "She can't be overwritten by a God Program." explained Winston.

"And that is…" Genji said, rotating his head slightly to the side. "A mere feat of impeccable engineering?"

"Yes," answered Athena. Winston shrugged.

"We are…" said Winston, unsure. "Going back in. As soon as I have a plan."

"Any ideas so far?" Genji said. Though he was still interested in Athena, he didn't argue towards changing the subject. His voice and somehow even his mask were honest intrigue.

"Not… As such," Winston admitted. "Just mostly thinking about what Comman- What _Jack_ would do. _Might_ do."

Genji rocked his head back for a second, contemplatively. "What _Jack_ would do… Jack is here."

Winston sighed. "Not as such. He hasn't been the same since…"

"Since?"

"Reaper."

Genji leaned in. "What about him?" he said.

It was true that Reaper had broken Jack's spirit, but that was hardly the full shape of it. Winston made the larger point. "You remember… You remember Commander Reyes, right?"

Genji lurched back, falling into his seat. He cursed quietly in Japanese. "You are… Not joking."

Winston nodded. "Jack… He's not the same."

"Since when has he been the same?" Genji asked, pointedly. After a brief pause, he said, "When I met him… Well, I guess I was just a bit disappointed."

Winston's features loosened in surprise. "How?" he said. "He's _Supreme Commander Morrison._ "

"Before I'd met him, he was a… Symbol. The UN slapped him on all their propaganda. " _Jack wants you," "We're all soldiers,"_ remember those? He wasn't like those when I met him. He was… Well, he was a lot like how he is now."

Winston nodded. "You're saying… Even before Switzerland. I just didn't see it…"

Genji raised his hands placatingly. "No one could have known," he said. "Especially not a spook like me or a tech jockey like you."

Winston nodded.

"Maybe Jack doesn't want you to do what _Jack_ would do," Genji said, thoughtfully. "Maybe that's why _you're_ in charge."

Winston stood, scratching his brow. "Jack said…" he muttered, "not to give Talon time to break through."

"We getting a plan?" Genji said, mask smiling eagerly.

"We are," Winston said, smiling back. "We give Talon time to break through."

…

Fareeha walked back to the camp, mind still churning. She told herself that she would talk to Ana if she saw her. Ana was her mother, or maybe only had been in another life. Fareeha wasn't sure where they stood, exactly. They had rather avoided talking to each other. All they'd shared were pensive stares and nods when directly asked a question that it was for sure no one else knew the answer to.

Even before Ana faked her death, Fareeha had discovered that she hadn't known her mother as well as she thought she did. Add ten years apart to those differences, and Fareeha felt a disturbing alienation from the woman who'd birthed her. _Jesus,_ she thought, _it's so undignified._ Talking to her should be easy. They were both adults now, weren't they? Keeping these animosities was childish, and in a certain sense, selfish, dangerous.

She headed to the machine shop to see if they'd finished her armor yet. To her surprise, she found Dr. Mei Ling Zhou there.

"Okay," the stocky ecologist said, "try it again."

The thing she was working on was a robot about the size of a cantaloupe, dome-shaped, and blue. Its case looked new, but the two dots on its frontal display blinked on and off erratically, betraying its true age. The drone lifted off the table and briefly flew. Mei clapped excitedly.

"Now come back, buddy!" Mei said.

The drone disobeyed, and continued flying. It's 'eyes' looked confused when it bumped softly into Fareeha's chest, even though it had been looking right at her. It shook around, like a confounded old man wondering who put a wall there. Mei's expression had turned melancholy, and she guided the drone gently back to the table.

"Hi," said Fareeha awkwardly.

"Hello," Mei said, seeming to also only just notice Fareeha's presence.

Fareeha smiled briefly and stiffly, as warmly as she could muster, which was not very. She moved forward, past Mei's workbench, and spoke to the mechanic, Burton, who assured her that her new set of Raptora armor was fully calibrated and ready to fight. The new armor was a metallic black, trimmed with gold, and the helmet evoked a jackal. With its humanoid body, Fareeha rather thought it resembled Anubis given wings. Was Burton celebrating past victories, Fareeha wondered? Though she could hardly call Anubis a 'victory.' Fareeha nodded, and turned to leave. Burton spoke again.

"Everyone?" he said. The somber look in his eyes telling her exactly who 'everyone' was. Everyone on the assault team.

"Only me, Ziegler, and Shimada," she said. "Those are all the combat troops who survived, yes."

Burton frowned. "So..?"

"We're keeping on the mission," said Fareeha.

Burton laid down his wrench. "Not to overstep nothing, captain, but is that a good idea? Even if you take everyone with, guards, the engineers, the med-techs, the pilot, that's only twelve people, even if you count the mercenaries."

Fareeha almost asked who the 'mercenaries' were. "Overwatch aren't your average mercenaries," she said.

"All the same," said Burton, shrugging. "If this was a casino, I wouldn't take those odds." Fareeha gave Burton a harsh look. He returned to his work, "I'll follow your orders, whatever they are, captain," he said. "I'm just trying to get you to see all the perspectives."

Fareeha left then. Mei was still hard at work on her drone, the various innards she plucked alternatively tickled and hurt the drone.

"If you don't mind me asking," Fareeha said.

"I am Mei," she said, not answering the question Fareeha was going to ask. "This is Snowball."

Now Fareeha had a new question. "Snowball?" she asked. "The drone?"

Mei nodded. "He took a beating in our last big fight," Mei said. Then added, guiltily, "I was unconscious when it happened."

"You survived going toe to toe with Reaper," Fareeha said, recalling the brutal battle that Winston had described to her. "That's impressive."

Mei smiled again. "He hasn't… Recovered," Mei said. "I've looked through every manual and fixed just about everything in him."

"Why don't you…" Fareeha said, "get a new one? There must be…"

Mei set the drone on the table. "This little guy saved my life," she said. "I was trapped in cryo-stasis for decades when Watchpoint Antarctica was caught in that blizzard. This little trooper-" she patted Snowball's head. "-kept my life-support from going out and flagged down the second expeditionary force when they came around. So really, I owe him two."

Fareeha crossed her arms, understanding. She'd had an inexplicable pang of guilt when the Raptora suit she'd been using was destroyed. Maybe it was something like this. "You're no roboticist, why don't you ask Winston? Or Angela? Or…" She gestured behind, "The mechanic?"

"I did," Mei explained. "They're all too busy."

Fareeha wouldn't feel right leaving the doctor here in this situation. But she couldn't waste resources on something frivolous, no matter how bad it made her feel.

"Your drone, Snowball," Fareeha said. "Does it give you a tactical advantage of any kind?"

Mei frowned, her forehead creasing as she looked at the drone.

"Anything at all?" Fareeha asked. "Moral support?" she winced.

"He's built with the same freeze tech as my gun," she said. "He can create tiny blizzards all by himself."

Fareeha nodded. "Good enough. Burton! This drone is the next thing you fix, got it?"

The mechanic shifted, not liking the idea. "We even got time?" he asked.

"It will take you ten minutes, tops," Fareeha said. "Start with the guidance system."

He still didn't look like he agreed, but he wasn't the one in charge.

"I don't want my soldiers going in half-cocked," Fareeha said, trying for an air of military toughness. She hoped it worked. Her inherited 'Captain Fareeha Amari' title was something she was still growing into.

Mei's face brightened. "Thank you so much," she said.

There was no real confirmation that Burton would be able to fix anything, but Fareeha left that unsaid.

Her watch alarm blinked red, shocking woman and drone. Red meant a serious security alert. Someone had somehow gotten into the camp. She hurriedly checked her watch. Power had been cut to the medical tent. Angela.

Fareeha broke into a sprint, weaving past tools and benches faster than Mei could keep up. She didn't know if it was a glitch or something real, but she was closest, and in the middle of a fight like this, she couldn't take chances.

The medical tent was two buildings away. If Fareeha had her Raptora armor on, she'd probably jet along the ground, but she didn't, so she continued running. She slammed her badge on the door lock and rushed in, drawing her sidearm. The corridors were blacked out, power cut. She switched her safety off and the built-in light on.

"Always keep that face on, doc?" A voice echoed from the dark. A voice Fareeha distantly recognized. She let out a silent breath of conflicting animal relief and intellectual panic as she realized that the voice was directed at Angela. "Hard to keep good spirits when you're surrounded by death. I and I'd know. You'd know too."

"Who are you?" Angela responded, much softer, but her voice was level and fearless. "Show yourself."

"You first," the voice said, impishly.

"I'm right here," she said. "You're the one who's hiding."

"You call yourself ' _Mercy,_ ' the voice spat. "But you refuse mercy to these people. You're a fake. Doling out false hope. No matter how many you save, the world never gets better, only worse. Hope _destroys_ us. The truth is, Doc, death is the only true mercy. _Mercy_ is what you _took_ from me."

"I… _Mein gott…_ " Angela said, " _Gabriel._ What happened to you?"

"You tell me, Doc." A dark figure loomed behind her, wearing a mask shaped like a ram's skull.

Gabriel. Fareeha remembered. They'd trained together. When Ana wouldn't teach her to shoot, Gabriel was the one who picked up the slack. He'd treated her as an equal, not just the brat who hung out at the Watchpoint with nothing better to do. That was something very few in the Watch had in them. Not even Jack, not even Ana.

Fareeha blinked once, clearing away the fog. She aimed for the bone-white spot in the dark and fired. Pistol rounds ricocheted through the compound just slower than their sound, but the Reaper turned to smoke, indistinguishable from the surrounding blackness.

"Death comes for all," the Reaper said. "Remember that."

The lights flickered back on, and Angela fell over onto a bed, her strength drained. Fareeha rushed to her side, scanning the corners of the room, though she knew that Reaper was gone.

"I just-" Angela's voice quivered, tears coming to her face. The fear she'd been suppressing made her body tremulous as it released. "I only wanted to help him."

Jack, carrying his pistol, and Mei entered the room. "Angela!" Jack shouted. "Are you alright? I saw Fareeha, then-"

Angela didn't look at him. "Gabriel," she said. "Gabriel was here."

Jack let the weapon fall to his side, and took her meaning. "Reaper."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Angela said. "Why didn't you tell me it was him?"

 _Well,_ thought Fareeha. _Two psychopaths had become three._ This day just kept getting better.

…

Angela looked at Genji Shimada, immobile, save for the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. His eyes were open and attentive, dark in color, and possessed a charming glint that not even pain could erase. He'd been sleeping before Angela came in. She watched him for a while, and could have stayed in that moment forever.

Angela bit her lip, looking at the clipboard. She was to offer 'the deal', as her superiors said it. Extortion, it really was. At least one of them admitted it. Angela recognized the man's eyes for what they were, a mask. A brave mask prepared for bad news. Angela knew it, because she'd worn it before.

"I have good news," she said, against expectation. "You… There is a good possibility… That you will walk again."

Genji listened neutrally. His mask still in place. he was expecting more. Expecting her caveat. He knew how Overwatch operated.

Angela wasn't ready. She rattled off facts about the procedure. "You will receive extensive cyberization. Most of your internal organs have already been replaced, but you'll be getting new ones, more compatible with your modifications. Carbon fiber bones, artificial muscles, sub-dermal graphene armor.

Genji's brow rose at the last one. "How about a nice ass?" Said Genji. His face tightened into mock seriousness. "Could use _that._ "

Angela laughed, harder than she'd had reason to in years, and a tear fell out of each of her eyes. The last throe sounded more like a sob. Genji looked confused. "I didn't think it was _that_ funny, Doctor."

Attention given to the crack in her mask, Angela wiped the tears away with a delicate brush of her fingers. It was a long moment before she spoke again, somberly. "They want me to tell you that you'll be saved in exchange for your help," she said. "They want you to turn against the Shimadas. Your family. They may be criminals, but…"

Genji was solemn like stone. He shifted, as if wanting to sit up straighter. He winced and gave up, falling back down. He looked towards his feet for a moment, then back to Angela, dark eyes hard like diamonds. "I'll do it."

Angela touched his hand. Unprofessional. But he had to know. "You don't understand. You don't _have_ to," she said. "I'll still help. I will find some way. I-"

"Doctor," Genji said. His words cut hers off clean. After he was sure Angela was giving him his full attention, he spoke in a storyteller's tambour. "All my life I lived under my father. My brother and I both. My brother was…" He clicked his teeth. "More zealous than I. He learned the trade, I did not. I did not know what the 'trade' was, not truly. I only ever knew that my father had money. I tried not to think about where the money I was boozing and whoring with came from. Not that long ago, that façade fell from my eyes, and even willful ignorance could not replace it."

Genji looked at Angela and explained directly, "My father did not order my death because I was aloof. He ordered it because he knew I could and would destroy him. My father and my brother are _criminals._ As you say. They said that _I_ dishonored _them_ by doing as I did. This may be so. But they are no better. I dishonor them? They dishonor the very _name_ of Shimada. My only regret was that I was not given a long enough life to stop them. But you changed that. Hang the deal. If the deal didn't exist, nothing would change. I would fight. _I will fight._ "

Angela looked down. The bull-headed idiocy of violent men knew no bounds. "You'll live the rest of your life as a war machine," she said. She tried to sound sharp like him, it came out desperate. "Is that what you want?" Her voice broke on the last syllable. She felt the tears coming back. Why did he let them corrupt him so?

"It is what I choose," Genji said. He leaned back and closed his eyes. The conversation was over. "I suppose we will both have to live with it."


	3. Part 3

III

Jack didn't want to talk about this. He wanted more than anything to just pretend that nothing had happened. That Gabriel was still his friend, lying peacefully in the grave. That the creature in black hunting and slaughtering innocents to its heart's content wasn't Gabriel. Now, he'd have to pretend further, look Angela in the eye and pretend that the whole thing wasn't her damned fault.

"The one who brought back… The one who made Reaper," Jack said. His words were as cold and sharp and low as dead bones. "That was _you?_ "

Angela nodded solemnly. "The trial run of something I was working on," she said. She spoke in a voice that was uncharacteristically small and feeble, and didn't make eye-contact. Reaper's attack had shaken her. "It… Didn't work as intended," she said.

"Help me figure this out," said Jack. "Never mind the fact that you created Reaper by being reckless and irresponsible. _Gabriel Reyes_ runs a misinformation campaign against me, holds you hostage in your own facility, tries to kill me. And you think, _Let's bring that guy back from the grave?_ "

This tone wasn't going to do him any favors trying to win Angela back, but they were past that.

"I couldn't leave him there, not while there was a chance I could help."

Jack's mouth twisted down, almost open. His mask was off, and Angela could see every emotion that played behind his eyes. "Angela, he's the one who _tried to kill me._ He's the one who brought it all down. Did you listen to a word I-"

Angela's voice was barely more than a whisper, but it somehow stopped Jack's raised tones mid-speech. "I believed him," she said, coldly, eyes hard like diamonds. Her motherly bedside manner was gone. Her meekness and warm calm gone, frozen. Jack stopped and listened practically against his will. "You're wrong. I was giving Gabriel asylum, Jack. I _helped_ him."

" _Why?_ " Jack blurted out, "Why in a million years? He-"

"The leaks," Angela said, simply. "Remember? The worst things Overwatch had done, true. But most of them were about Blackwatch. Every terrible thing that they'd done, that _Gabriel_ had ever done, put out for the world to see. And now," she stopped. Her heart stopping tightening along with her lips was almost thunderously tangible. "And now, you show up, and you start acting like you'd be _happier_ if I'd just let your best friend die. You tell me _why_."

"I… You thought _I…_ "

Angela's eyes became wet in the corners, her voice growing tight like over-tuned strings. This wasn't coldness. This wasn't damage, or rage, or self-righteous arrogance. " _You tell me_ what it looks like, Jack."

This was all Angela's courage coming to its bitter end. This was fear. She was afraid of him. Just like she had been six years, longer, ago.

At the realization, Jack felt himself retract into a tiny ball in his throat. His mouth gabbed open, looking for an apology. But what apology existed for what he had done? He ended up turning away, shambling out of the room like a man dead on his feet. He stopped in the doorway, searching one final time for something, anything. He felt that if he spoke a word, he might vomit in disgust, or break out crying.

Even so, he forced out what he thought at best might be a croaking "I'm sorry."

It was nothing. His throat strained as if words were produced, and his lips did move. But there was no sound, only an explosion of tears. They were yet hidden as he walked away.

 _I am so, so, sorry, Angela,_ Jack thought, over and over. All the way outside, all the way to the edge of the camp, to the Orca.

...

"Here's what we do," said Winston. It had been hours in the making, but the plan was finally complete. "The Omnium is in the heart of a cluster of buildings, that gives us cover, but they have it too. They have an entrenched position on high ground, so that gives them the clear advantage."

"So," said Fareeha, patiently, "how do you propose we fight them?"

Winston smirked and pushed up his glasses, like he did when he knew he was being clever. "We don't. We hide. We take up positions around the entry points and wait for Talon to break through. Then, when they've cleared the way, we ambush the detachment and take them out. Then we close the door behind us."

"Extraction?" Fareeha asked before Jack could.

"I need someone to drive that missile truck," Winston said, "but I'll need someone to take the missiles off. I just need the trailer and someone to drive the truck. Athena will fly them in with the Orca, she'll time it so she'll touchdown when we spring our trap. Then we'll drive it in."

"I can get you someone," Fareeha said.

"I'll do it," said Jack. "I'll drive the truck."

Fareeha raised an eyebrow. "We need all our best on the front line," she said.

Jack shook his head. "This is smarter. If Talon catches wind of us driving a truck around the back of the Omnium, and I'm guessing they will, they're going to try and intercept it. When that happens, you need someone who can hold his own."

Winston nodded, brushing his own chin with a finger. "It's… It's a smart play, Jack," he said. "But…"

"I'll send Faruk with you," Fareeha said. "He'll follow your orders until this is through. He's a good soldier."

Back-up would be useful. But… "You said yourself," Jack decided with a groan, "we need every man we can get on the front line."

Fareeha shook her head. "I've never seen someone argue so hard against having back-up," she mused.

"There's another piece, though. Cutting off the missiles means cutting off our artillery support," Winston said.

"No," disagreed Fareeha, "You'll still have me."

"You?"

Fareeha flashed a mischievous smile, more befitting a master thief than a military commander. It was so sudden and uncharacteristic that Jack was caught off-guard. "You'll see," she said.

Winston refocused, "Once we're inside, Athena and I will re-shackle the program and get it out of there, put it where Talon can't find it again. If there are no further questions? Then meeting adjourned. Get to work, team."

As the team scrambled, heading to prepare their duties, Jack approached Winston.

"Got to hand it to you, Commander," Jack said. "Hell of a plan."

"If it works," Winston said. His smile was part bashfulness, part nerves.

Jack clapped a hand on the ape's colossal shoulder. "It probably won't," Jack said, warmly. "No plan survives contact with the enemy, after all. But we'll _make_ it work."

...

Jamison Fawkes looked over the battlefield. It was beautiful. An explosion anywhere you looked, any time, kicking up a cloud of dust, glass and shrapnel. Never before had the mercenary known as Junkrat seen such a perfect marriage of art and violence. And soon, very soon, he'd be in the thick of it. Point defense turrets mowed down the growing horde of zombie omnics. Zombie. Omnics.

 _Zomnics._

He giggled in delight. His counterpart, a towering masked mountain of meat who Fawkes called only Roadhog, cast a glassy stare at his partner.

"What?" Hog asked. He wasn't surprised. He'd traveled with Fawkes the better part of a decade, and had witnessed many outbursts of similar behavior in that time. But Fawkes' laughs almost always indicated the same thing: he was about to do something _really_ fun.

Fawkes smirked a little too wide and said, "It's a perfect day for some mayhem."

The commander of the Talon forces was not impressed. Her stoic expression told everything within three meters that she wasn't impressed with it. Her black hair was shaved down to stubble, and she was decked in black ballistic armor, as almost all Talon operatives were. A green insignia and four hollow black stars adorned her shoulder, indicating that she was a general. She stomped over.

"Missed your briefing," she said. "Lucky for you, I don't care. Just go blow shit up. Die if you want, but get us through that line. I'd recommend you do it at the same time as me and mine if you want to live to see the cash."

"Sure," Hog said. No respect carried in his tone, not even the modicum he would usually afford the one paying him. Fawkes loved it.

The general walked away. "Good thing I'm not the one paying you assholes." She said.

Fawkes scoffed and began checking over his arsenal, including, but not limited to, his gun, his mechanized tire stuffed with bombs, an assortment of mines and traps, his arm and his leg. If any of those things weren't working properly, his life of merriment and whimsy would be over quite quickly.

Hog looked down at the chain in his left hand, the makeshift shotgun in his right, and decided he was prepared.

Fawkes grinned when he heard their employer speaking to someone new. He skittered up to a rock, peeking over stealthily. Hog lumbered right behind him in plain view.

"Git down, you lug!" Fawkes whispered.

Hog shrugged.

"Didn't think I'd see you again. Not here anyway. 'Fuck you doing here?" asked the general. She brushed the stubble on her head. Despite how angry she seemed to be, she dropped out of her stoic, superior mannerism. She was speaking to a man in a long, dark coat. He would have dwarfed many in terms of stature, just not her.

"Helping," the man replied. His voice was gravelly, like he was lowering it on purpose. He for one, wasn't dropping any pretenses. The general, however, treated it as a sign of sincerity.

"Only reason I agreed to work with these fuckers is Fist told me you weren't going to be here," the general said, conversationally. Fawkes wasn't a stranger to employers underestimating him. He said nothing, content that the general would be eating her words soon enough.

The man answered. "Didn't know Fist wanted to send me where I was going."

"Fucking with the chain of command's a fast way to get people killed."

"Your history is showing, _Frankie_ , thought you were a merc now," the man mocked before adding, "And Fist isn't my boss."

The general snorted. Somehow condescending and friendly at the same time.

"I'm going to help you pick apart that line," the man said. "Their medic, Ziegler. She's mine. If someone else kills her, I kill them."

The general could barely hold back a laugh. "Oh, you think you're in a position to make requests?"

"Not a request," said the man, coldly.

The general shook her head, grinning. "You piece of shit. If I didn't like you so much, I'd forget I still owe you one. Fine then. Ziegler's yours. I'll tell my boys to aim for her legs." Her smile lessened, and her eyes turned sharp again. "Make sure you hold your end up."

"Always do," the man said. And they went their separate ways, the general back to her tent, the man toward Fawkes' hiding place. Fawkes expected to see his face, but instead, he saw a bone-white mask, designed like a ram's skull without the horns. The man's mask turned to Hog, looking him up and down.

"Nice mask," Hog snorted. It was probably sincere.

Fawkes jumped out, tired of hiding. The man stared in annoyance.

"You look like someone who needs somebody blown up," Fawkes said, pointing his finger and winking. No visible expression came to Hog, but he might have been annoyed.

"A candidate has come to mind," said the man.

It didn't really matter to Fawkes if tall, dark and gruesome liked him at all. Why the next words proceeded from his mouth was anybody's guess. "Don't worry, mate! Ziegler's good as dead."

The man suddenly grabbed Fawkes by the throat and slammed him onto the rock he was hiding behind. Fawkes' smile grew out ear to ear, probably annoying his attacker, but that was just what happened when Fawkes was scared out of his mind. _Further_ out of his mind. Hog drew his weapon, but the man already had his own out, pointed right at Hog's head.

"Ziegler. Is. Mine," he reiterated, looking Fawkes in the eye.

He let go and went on his way. Hog slowly put his weapon away.

"Well, that's a fine how-do-you-do. _Jackarse,_ " muttered Fawkes, nursing his neck.

Hog let out a good-humored snort. "I like 'im."

...

It rubbed Fareeha the wrong way, sitting and watching the rest of the team head out while she watched. It felt like they were leaving her behind. Worse, like she was leaving them behind. They disappeared from her sight behind the cover of the buildings as she hid, kneeling, behind a wall on top of a building. One squad each covered a side of the door, the right, Overwatch, the left, Helix. It wasn't like she was that far away from them, but usually she'd be going in first, not behind everyone else.

Beside her, her support, who happened to be Captain Ana Amari, had also taken position. Fareeha was sure that Ana knew as well as she did that the issue eventually had to come up. They were just putting it off. Indefinitely. Might as well get it over with if they were about to die.

"So," Fareeha croaked. The word was forced out, and Fareeha wondered if she'd manage anymore. "You're looking well." The comment was more biting in tone and inference than Fareeha would have liked. Ana didn't notice, or pretended not to notice.

"And you as well,' Ana said. Her calm, even speech might have indicated indifference, or not.

"Jack said I should talk to you," Fareeha said. She regretted telling her that this wasn't her idea. "About… What's happened."

Ana looked down her scope, neutrally. "I wouldn't know where to begin," she said.

"Start with 'what were you thinking?'" Fareeha said, her tongue again growing too sharp. "Why did you… Why didn't you tell anyone?" She meant _me._ Why didn't you tell _me?_ But she left it unsaid.

Ana sighed heavily. If there was real pain in her eyes, her scope hid it. Fareeha started looking out at the battlefield herself with the recon visor in her helmet. The enemy was still unaware of their presence, and still regrouping from their own most recent failed assault.

"All the reasons I had," Ana said, "They all seem so stupid now. I was old, I was tired of working in the field. Jack would have let me retire without a word, even if he wouldn't hang up the towel himself. But I was the one keeping myself there. I just wanted to keep making sure everything went right. Since I got out, I didn't… Have a reason to get back in."

She didn't answer Fareeha's real question. Ana seemed to know this.

"I wanted to reach out," Ana continued, more sadness creeping into her voice. "But I stopped myself from even looking. I couldn't tell you why. Maybe I was… afraid of seeing how the years had changed you. Maybe more worried that you'd joined Jack on his damn fool crusade like your mother. Afraid to look. Maybe I just liked to imagine who you were more than knowing. I thought maybe you'd become a horse rancher. Or a basketball player. But I suppose I started to understand that was silly too."

"And then?"

"I _looked,"_ Ana said. "And I saw… I saw something I hadn't expected. Private security should have been obvious in hindsight, I suppose. But I saw you, and I saw someone strong, beautiful, capable. _Better_ than I'd ever imagined."

"Then why?"

"I thought to myself, would she appreciate her dead mother coming out of nowhere and ruining everything? By the time I realized that was silly… I thought it was too late."

"You… You didn't think I needed you?"

Ana nodded slowly.

Fareeha licked her lips contemplatively. "Well," she bit, "you were _wrong_ about that, you crazy old goat."

Ana chuckled. something exploded behind them.

Fareeha slammed her head back into her helmet and gripped her rocket launcher. Ana activated her mask.

"This was a really bad time," Fareeha said, glancing over the cover.

Ana laughed. "This was a really bad fucking time."

Fareeha looked out over the battlefield. A two battalions of Talon soldiers advanced on the open hatch of the Omnium. A surge of omnics flooded from the inside like vomit from a retching throat. She couldn't really hear them, but the noises they made, the metallic shrieks and rattles, echoed through Fareeha's mind loud enough as if they were right in her ear.

And the battle began. At first, the stream of zombies stopped right at a certain line. Talon rolled in machine gun turrets, mowing down ones that came too close. But Fareeha noticed something they didn't. The dead omnics they'd already killed started standing back up, even the ones behind their line, that they were basically standing on. She'd also noticed something else. When she'd gotten there, the omnics were slow, but in imperceptible increments, they'd begun to move faster. Now they were almost the speed of a jogging human, and they were encroaching on the line.

A woman, her bald head higher from the ground from all her men, sprinted to the front of the line and started mowing the robots down, the weapons in each of her hands looking about the size of Jack's pulse rifle. Behind her, two ragged-looking men, one tiny, the other huge, followed behind her. The tiny one tossed something onto the ground, then jumped and seemed to bounce off it to a building top, all around him, the zomnics were blown back. Whoever he was, the crazy guy looked like he'd just used a concussive charge to maneuver. He began raining tiny red explosive balls onto them, blowing more to bits with each one. Slowly, they started pushing the sea back, and pushing their own line towards the campus square.

"Steady," Winston said in Fareeha's helmet speaker.

"There's a problem," Jack said. The team's collective heart stopped almost palpably. "Primary package has a faulty repulsor-jet. Burton's fixed it, but it'll be late coming."

"Delay doesn't work for us," Genji said, "they're cutting right through."

"Hold," Winston said. "The plan hasn't changed. Much."

"Good," Genji quipped. "So we do still _have_ a plan."

Fareeha looked up. Five of the six 'packages' were burning blue on the grey sky. She could barely see them, and that because she knew to look. Talon wouldn't see them coming. Hopefully.

The bald general advanced into the sea of zomnics, and they formed a bubble around her. The torrent of new monsters stopped, but the dead ones were all coming back to life. Fareeha felt a metallic hand grasp her ankle. The omnic on the rooftop had returned as well. Fareeha shot a wrist-rocket into its head, knocking it away, and Ana shot its neck with her silenced pistol, removing its head.

"Attack now!" Winston shouted. "Hold the gate until the package arrives!"

Fareeha watched as the team surged from the shadows, raining various projectile weapons on their foes. Genji took out five enemy soldiers with one green shuriken each, hitting them in their unarmored necks. Angela remained behind a short piece of cover, staff glowing in one hand, pistol firing in the other. Winston laid down a protective barrier for them and then leapt behind the enemy lines, shocking them with his tesla cannon. Her own men picked off their own targets with their pulse rifles. Mei's drone flew out, coating the ground in smooth ice, and the ecologist skated behind it, spraying enemies with ice and spearing them with icicles. Fareeha's eyebrows shot up in amusement. The grace with which the diminutive scientist moved was something to behold.

Looking over the battle field, Fareeha knew what she had to do.

"Stay safe," she said to Ana, and launched into the sky.

Her target only noticed her after she'd fired off a rocket. The tiny merc with the grenade launcher scrabbled away from his perch desperately, and scurried into cover. Fareeha hadn't intended to hit. Next, she fired another rocket at the feet of the bald general, disrupting her advance.

Before anyone could get a decent idea where Fareeha was, she dropped onto another building top and hid. She manually loaded two more rockets into the gun's clip and watched the battle again.

A Talon gunship tore up from the ground, and opened fire, pelting her squad with laser fire. That didn't make sense. If Talon had that edge the whole time, why did they only use it now? When she saw Talon's own reaction to the new arrival, then the green veins pulsing through it, she understood. The gunship had been reanimated. Bullets bounced uselessly off it from the guns of those foolish enough to fight it. The general shouted almost audibly at her men, telling the 'dumbfucks' to get to cover, and not to break formation. Two of Fareeha's own battalion were shot by the gunship.

"Shamal, Kashmyr," she said, "report!"

Only Kashmyr responded. Shamal was dead. That thing needed to go down. Fareeha launched again. She unloaded her full complement of rockets at the troublesome bird, laying down a field of flaming explosives any human pilot would be hard-pressed to dodge. This wasn't a human pilot. It spun in maneuvers that she'd never seen a gunship perform. Why couldn't it? It had no crew, just powerful repulsors. Fareeha narrowly avoided the hail of laser fire that answered her own onslaught.

"That gunship needs to go down," said Winston. "Any ideas?"

"Captain Pharah," Genji said. "I have a plan. You have those concussive rockets, right?"

"I do?" Fareeha said, slamming a fresh roll into her rocket launcher.

"I need you to shoot me with one."

"That sounds… Very dangerous."

"Zombie gunships are also very dangerous, captain. On the count of three, shoot me."

Fareeha thought that she knew what Genji was planning. She didn't like it.

"One." Genji jumped from cover, leaping to the top of a nearby building, and advancing on the ship. The gunship opened fire on him, but didn't hit.

"Two." Genji jumped down a level, into a building's second story window. The laser cut through the walls. Genji came out the other side, deftly jumping back to the building tops.

"Three!" Fareeha fired. At the very last second, Genji jumped over the missile, and it exploded at his s feet. The explosion propelled him into the ship. It shot him in defense, but his wakizashi moved lightning quick to deflect the lasers. He sliced through the door and went inside.

"That," Fareeha said, "was way more dangerous than what I thought you were going to do."

Genji started cursing in Japanese.

"Genji! Report!" Winston said.

"Tentacles!" Genji grunted. His sword cut through something somehow metallic and squishy at once. "Lots of fucking tentacles in here! And not the fun kind!"

"Package is on the way." Burton chimed. He ignored Genji's comment.

"Are the rest in position, Athena?" Winston said, grunting, "Talon is breaking through!"

"They are," she answered.

"Drop them now! Everyone, get to the main gate!"

Everyone followed the order. The blue fires in the sky dimmed and grew. The buildings from Fareeha's forward command landed all around on key choke points in the campus, crushing clusters of zomnics and the odd Talon soldier. Overwatch fell into the one gate that remained unobstructed, holding Talon in one side, the zomnics on their other. Fareeha advanced, shooting rockets into the clusters of enemies, scattering them and frustrating their efforts to coordinate. Fareeha wondered when she'd started using the word, 'zomnic.'

It looked like they were holding, but the itch at the back of Fareeha's mind wouldn't leave. Something was missing.

A mass of black smoke shot from the building top and right into the middle of Fareeha's men. It materialized into the shape of a man, and begun spinning. One by one, her men went down in a pop of blood and lead. All the ones she had left were going down.

Fareeha screamed and jetted toward the Reaper. Unprofessional. Undisciplined. It was a bad play, and she knew it. But all the training in the world hadn't prepared her for losing her squad three times.

The Reaper looked at her, his head cocked in something like amusement, and he dropped his guns. Fareeha launched a rocket at his feet. He disappeared in a spray of fire, brimstone, and smoke.

"Fall back, Pharah!" Winston ordered. "Stay with the plan!"

The smoke blew away, and Fareeha couldn't feel relieved. That was way too easy.

"He's not dead," someone said. Angela had snuck up on Fareeha. "He's going to reconstitute, then come back. You won't get back to camp in time. You need to come with us, into the Omnium."

Angela's calm, decisive tone was almost eerie. Even as the world exploded and turned to radioactive sludge around her, she remained serene. She was a symbol, whether she knew it or intended it. A constant in the ever-changing storm of war. Her mind was mapping out the way to save every single person possible in this situation, like she always was.

Fareeha nodded and watched the corners for zomnics and Talon. What came was worse. A shower of molten lead showered Fareeha from above. The wave of restorative energy pulsing from Angela's staff healed the damage completely, but not before she felt it. Fareeha aimed upward at the buildings, shooting each one, reducing them all to clouds of rubble, then she and Angela rocketed upward, using the debris as cover.

Another blast destabilized Fareeha, sending her plummeting. Angela drifted after her on glowing golden wings, using her caduceus staff to close the soldier's wounds.

The Reaper rematerialized, pointing guns at Ziegler. "Meet mercy," he said.

His hand transformed into spikes of blue-white ice and fell to his side. A shape whizzed past, coating the ground in ice. A frozen spear stabbed through his arm, spraying out foul-smelling black blood.

"What!?" Reaper shouted, looking around.

"This is for Snowball!" Mei shouted. Fareeha had not heard such hate in the tiny woman's voice before.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Reaper called again, dodging the next icicle. "I didn't kill anyone's dog!"

While Reaper was distracted, Fareeha fired another rocket. He dissipated, the icy shackles and spears clanking to the frozen ground. Reaper reformed, guns in hand, ready to fire.

The roar of metal passed overhead. The four combatants looked up to see the gunship barreling down towards them. More accurately, towards Reaper.

He sprinted out of the way. The gunship rolled and tumbled on the ground, coating the land with dirt and metal. Genji cut his way out of the ship simply drenched in black and green fluid.

"That was fun," Genji said. His deadpan tone told a different story. "Doctor!"

There were chunky 'clinks' all around that Fareeha couldn't place. She looked and saw tiny red spheres hitting the ground. One landed at Fareeha's feet, and she saw the chrome design sprayed on it, a smiling face with a jagged mouth.

"Move!" she said. She and Angela barreled out of the way, sliding on a path of ice snowball had left, just as the red sphere exploded into a fiery plume the size of a beach ball. The rest followed suit, each exploding and being immediately replaced by another. They had no way of defending against the rain of explosives. There was a manic laugh that tumbled through the dusty streets and alleys like a sinister dolphin's chatter. Fareeha followed the sound, zeroing in on a stick-thin rail of a man with wild blonde hair. The very same man Fareeha had shot at before. She shot him again, but he deftly dodged.

"Well, that's a fine-how-do-you-do!" he cackled, unaffected.

Reaper struck again. He'd been nigh indistinguishable from the dust cloud left by the ship. Becoming solid, he brought down a chrome-clawed hand on the ninja. Genji twisted his short blade in time to deflect the swing. The Reaper continued striking, wearing the fatigued ninja down further. Neither Fareeha nor Mei dared to intervene, for fear their weapons might hit the wrong target.

With every strike, Reaper grew angrier, punctuating each by screaming "Die!" a little louder.

Without warning, Reaper kicked Genji away and shot him. Genji brought his wakizashi to bear, and Reaper was hurt by the bulk of his own pellets, but even Genji could not deflect every fragment of the blast. Little black and red flecks sprayed from his legs and arms as his weakened fingers released the blade.

Reaper brought forth his guns, saying calmly, "Die."

Genji was blasted back and torn to pieces by the concentrated fire. Mercy used her staff, but it only prolonged the ninja's suffering. Genji fell to the ground, his body a twisted pile of bent limbs.

Mei screamed. Even Angela's iron resolve was weakening so harshly, Fareeha could almost feel the palpable dread. Fareeha shot another rocket, but predictably, Reaper wraithed, and it passed through.

As he advanced, Fareeha grabbed one of the red spheres and threw it into Reaper right as he materialized around it. He dropped his guns, and clawed at his chest.

"You," He snarled. His voice dripped with hateful vitriol. His hands slowed, then dropped to his side. "You. Did. _Not!_ "

Reaper exploded. The battleground was splattered with his black, putrid blood and sludge-like remains.

Mei stumbled to Genji's body. "I-is he? Is G-Genji-?"

Angela stood, shooting a zomnic square between the eyes. "Get him inside," she said. Her voice was stern, devoid of anxiety, a commandment of Moses cast in stone. Had she gone mad?

Winston was standing inside the gate, underneath a forcefield. He was beckoning them to come. Fareeha laid down covering fire as Angela, intrepid, dashed through the rain of exploding spheres. Angela grabbed the arms of the cyborg corpse, pulling it with her. The blue light above them, the command center, vanished. It was dropping.

"Get," Angela repeated. " _Inside!_ "

Fareeha complied, she grabbed Mei. "I've got you," she said.

Angela grabbed Genji, and Fareeha, Mei. They both put their thrusters to max, and prayed they would make the journey. The explosive orbs continued to hail down, along with the madman's cackling. Fareeha and Angela were hard pressed to find a safe passage. But then a single shot rang out from far away, and the madman fell back, screaming in terror. Ana Amari was still the best shot in the world, even missing an eye.

They crashed into the walls just as the command center touched down, kicking up dust and metal. But their labor was far from over.

...

Inside the omnium was a different sort of place. Once sleek metal walls were now tarnished and grey. By the entrance, the floors were covered in dirt, blown in by the wind.

Winston didn't realize, not until he was much closer, that Genji was not hanging unconsciously in Angela's arms. Winston's heart stopped. Genji was dead. As dead could be. Fareeha nearly crashed into the wall. She slid on her boots, hand stretched out in front of her.

Angela glided in behind her and set Genji down, fluid and graceful as a ballerina. She grabbed her staff from her wing and it unfolded, starting to spin and crackle with golden lightning.

"Not enough," she said. "Winston. Give me power. Your Tesla cannon."

There was no time to argue, and Winston had no intention to. He knew enough to know when he knew nothing. He pulled the trigger, and the energy of the cannon swirled into the maelstrom of lightning, turning from white to Angela's golden color. The wings on her back glowed brighter, and soon light began to spill from the cracks in her armor. The staff's head spun as fast as a sawblade, revolving with luminous splendor. She lowered the staff to Genji's chest.

" _Helden sterben nicht,"_ she chanted, and the energy released in a white-gold flash.

Genji's body turned to a ghostly cloud of light, then reformed, perfectly intact even to his armor. He shook his head, then looked around. He was alive again. The team looked on, awestruck.

The ninja chuckled, coming out of his daze. "Saved me again, Doctor."

"Almost didn't," said Angela, helping him up. "That tentacle line was pretty terrible." The humor was only in her eyes.

"I never _did_ mention that was a joke," he admitted. He stood with her help, brushing the dust off.

"No excuse," she said.

He looked at her. "I'm not at my funniest. Not while _fighting,_ " Genji said, his mask emoting innuendo. Not even two minutes back from the grave and he was flirting with the nurse.

Fareeha looked less than amused. "You could do this the whole time?" she said. Her voice was flat with suppressed rage. Everyone watched as that joyous moment was cut short. "You didn't think of _any_ other time this would have been useful?"

Genji looked at Angela for a moment, then realized what Fareeha was saying. His mask became somber and contemplative. Angela worked her mouth, trying to muster up the words. Genji would have been her quickest defender, but he hadn't born witness to the events, and was the benefactor. His wisdom kept his razor tongue at bay.

Mei was still in shock. She wasn't truly sure Genji was still alive. She might just be dreaming, or dead.

"The system is not perfect," Angela started. "The longer it takes to use, the more energy is needed for the resurrection," she said. Her tone was clinical and detached. Her eyes were unadulterated sorrow. "The energy is nearly doubled if the subject is already deceased."

"You saw how difficult it was to bring Genji back," said Winston, "and he'd hadn't been dead a minute." Winston didn't know whose side to take right now. Angela felt right. More logical. He was committed now.

"It's not right," Fareeha said. "It is not justice that they should die."

"Fareeha-" Winston began.

"That is _Captain Amari,_ " Fareeha bit. "I lost _two_ squads to monsters like this, and _you've-"_ she jabbed a finger at Angela "-just been sitting on this-"

This was out of hand. He was a scientist, and at that, not exactly a wizard when it came to people. He tried looking to Jack, but he hadn't come. Winston felt strangely vulnerable being without his mentor. Though he tried, Winston couldn't think of what the old Jack would do. He settled for the new one.

" _Captain Amari,_ " said Winston. "You're out of line."

Fareeha didn't look at him. "I wasn't talking to-"

" _Out of line!_ " Winston roared.

Dead silence.

He regained a modicum of his composure. "The facts are that we couldn't save them. We can't save them now. We do what we _can_ do. We do what _we came to do._ We press on, and we stop this monster from killing anyone else. We have out who deserves to be resurrected and who doesn't _after._ "

Fareeha's jaw was locked in a scowl, but her eyes softened, showing the immense sorrow behind her rage. Winston hated himself.

"Let's do this thing," he said. "Talon's desperate now. I'll take point."

As they cautiously but quickly trotted through the faintly green-lit corridors of the omnium, Winston watched Angela the closest. He couldn't read her. She was just as cool under pressure as she'd ever been. He could only wonder how she felt, handing off another one of her secrets to organization that had betrayed her. In her mind, Overwatch was tarnished. Winston saw that. He was no fool. Was she, under those unwrinkled features, calculating how much damage Winston was capable of now that his crippled soldiers could potentially return to the fray immediately? Had she even thought about the consequences of her assistance? Or, in the tension of the moment, had she done like she had so many times before, rushed in, and helped with nary a second thought? It was never clearer to Winston than now how much he needed someone like her at his side. Someone good.

Something else weighed on Winston, something that had been scratching on the back of his skull ever since he had accepted the mission. The outside of the Omnium was a wasteland of glass, dust, and broken bodies, human and omnic alike. Nothing survived the approach. In the very eye of this storm of destruction, who could survive, Winston asked himself, _how_ could someone survive?

He got his answer.

The three people were alive, but dormant. They were three, in tubes glowing green like everything else, twisted, barbed cables dug into their skin. Winston didn't want to know why.

The people, the objective, however, was the focus of none. They fixated on the monolithic statue depicting a man's face with ram's horns on its forehead, suspended five meters above them on arms of steel. The statue's face was twisted into a manic, mischievous grin. It made a loud but calm sound, somewhere between a dying animal and metallic rattle, and after a few seconds, made the same noise again, veins of sickly green light coursed through it, pulsing in time with its 'breaths.'

Winston had seen it before, he remembered, but only in vids. The God Program that had killed so many. He'd known what had been done to the programs. Shackled, sealed away. He hadn't known where. He realized that the old omniums were a good place as any to hide them. Anyone rational would stay away, and even a dormant God Program was powerful enough to defend itself from anyone else who wandered in. The problem was, this God Program was too dangerous. He thought they'd killed it. Clearly not.

"Loki," he said, under his breath.

The breathing seemed to grow louder at the mention of the god's name. Winston's heart stopped as he wondered whether he'd woken the beast up. It calmed back down.

Fareeha looked at Winston. "You know it?" she said, speaking softly. She was constantly glancing back at the Program's housing.

"Not… Personally," Winston said. "Did you know? Did you know what was really in here?"

"I knew, and I told you there was a God Program," admitted Fareeha. Averting her gaze might have been fear of the God, might have been guilt. "But the identity was classified. I couldn't have known that… Well, that we'd find…"

Winston could almost feel Angela stepping ahead.

Genji held out a hand to stop her. "I know what you think you are going to do," the ninja said, "but wait. That thing might have a failsafe on those people, if you take them out, L-" Genji choked, realized that Loki was listening. He continued gravely. "the Program could kill them. We need Athena to do her thing first."

Loki's reaction to Athena's name was even stronger. A massive shifting of metal made Jack think that the housing that contained Loki to its single form had started to move. But it was actually something worse.

Omnics started crawling off the ground, staggering to their feet. Some clambered together, making amalgamate creatures of twisted steel. The raspy breathing sped up. Something like a laugh.

"Amari!" Winston shouted, leaping forward, "You have command! Athena and I will try to shackle it!"

The 'laugh' stopped, replaced by an angry roar at the word, 'shackle.' Nearly all the bots turned their heads, following the scientist's arc through the air. Loki _really_ didn't like shackles.

"Never did know quite what to say, did you Winston?" Genji joked. He sliced through three shambling bots at once. "Stay sharp, or your toys will break!" Genji was now directing his taunts at Loki.

Winston barreled through the omnics, bashing them aside and frying their cores with his cannon. He leapt up to the metal rafters suspending the program's housing. He saw the square panel in the side of Loki's body. It was well-defended, as Winston had suspected it would be, by one of the amalgamate omnics the God Program was creating. It was balancing on the rafters with claw-like feet made from two omnic hands each.

Winston dodged two of its strikes, which sent the catwalk reeling and groaning as if about to collapse.

"Amari!" said Winston. "Hit that golem on the catwalk!"

The word 'golem' just slipped out without Winston thinking about it, but Fareeha took his meaning well enough. She emerged from the lower floor like a dolphin and blasted it with a rocket. Winston jumped under its arm while it was dazed, zapping it with the tesla cannon. He made it to the wall panel and threw up a dome-shield before plugging in his hand terminal.

Athena's logo appeared on the screen, but it was tarnished by green static.

"Loki is resisting my hack," said Athena's robotic voice, calmly. "As expected."

The golem's arm was little more than junk now. It flailed at its side, pieces falling off. It was recovered now, and it shook the catwalk as it carefully traveled to Loki's side.

"How long, Athena?" said Winston. His voice was calm, but alone, he didn't have to hide the dread on his face.

"Forty-five seconds," said Athena.

The golem pounded its solitary fist on Winston's dome shield. It cracked.

"That's… fast." Winston said. It sounded more like an eternity with the golem towering over them.

Quick as a flash of thunder, Genji ripped through the Golem's leg in a single clean cut. It toppled over, gripping the catwalk with its remaining leg, tipping it to the side. Luckily, Winston's ape feet were similarly dexterous, and he recovered his balance easily.

"Sorry about that, Doctor Winston!" said Genji. His apology was aloof, confident, and punctuated beginning and end by a swing of his blade.

"No need for an apology," said Winston, watching the screen intently. "You did me a huge favor, that golem was-"

"How much longer?" Genji interrupted.

Winston held off answering. In a half-second more, when the bar on the screen was full, he said, " _Now."_

"Initiating."

A deafening roar, and the room exploded into green, nearly blinding all. When the light and noise subsided, the breathing and the glow were slower, dimmer, and quieter than before. Loki was dormant once again.

"Okay, what now?" Fareeha asked.

Winston spoke. "Jack, you've brought the truck around, right? No trouble?"

"As requested," he said. "And… A bit."

As Winston clamped the maglocks onto Loki's body, about to ask how much a 'bit' was, something exploded overhead.

"They're in," said Genji.

"Open the hanger doors, Jack, get here fast!"

...

The streets of Hanamura were wet and slick with rain and blood. Genji Shimada had stood above the bodies, panting heavily. These were the last. The Shimadas, and all their former glory and power, were merely bad memories now. He'd screamed at the rain and the sky.

"What else?" he'd said. "What else do you have for me?"

It was a challenge. And a question.

Genji had not joined the others on the Orca for extraction. Angela came to see him again, one last time. He was sitting against a waist-high concrete wall not terribly far away from the site of his last slaughter. Just within line of sight, as not to forget what had happened. She could see the bodies littering the alley. She was repulsed not by the dead, but by the war. All the wars, public and secret, being waged around her. Particularly this one, the one that Genji had fought and ended.

"Genji?" she said. "Is… Is everything alright?"

"Yes, Doctor," said Genji. His single visible eye, not covered by a bandage, was red, and locked hard on nothing. The implants had changed their natural, beautiful, coloration into something haunting. "I am functional."

His black leather jacket was torn, revealing both his mechanical arm and his one of flesh. The flesh arm was cut right through to the charcoal-black artificial bone.

Angela resisted the urge to say something like, "that's not the question I asked," but she didn't. It was true that Genji had changed serving under Reyes. His rage, long repressed, had bubbled to the surface, making him impulsive and wrathful. But even so, he was the same gentle Genji Angela had known, even if he'd forgotten it. 'Tough love' was not what he needed. She could see it in his haunting and haunted red eye. He regretted what he had become. Chosen to become. Acting rashly, he'd done what he had to do for the greater good. Angela had some experience in that regard. He didn't need someone to be rough with him. He needed someone to help him back.

Angela sat down next to him. "Jesse is waiting for you," she said. "We're all waiting for you. We're heading…" she didn't say home. "Heading to Gibraltar. For your victory drink."

"I suppose I should be excited then," Genji said. He was smiling wryly under the plate on his face, Angela could see it in her mind's eye. She reached up to it. Her arms ached to touch him and let him know everything would be alright.

"Don't-!" He slapped the hand away, and his own quivered for half a second before stiffening. "D-Don't," he said. Angela saw the tear, though the rain hid it well.

"I want to see your face," said Angela.

"No," Genji disagreed. "Not after what you've done to it." Genji cursed in Japanese and stood suddenly. "Doctor, I-"

Angela looked at the back of his head, hand stretched forth weakly. "I know that's not what you meant."

"You _can't_ see it," Genji said. His eyes were trembling with tears now. "You can _never_ see it. I..." He snapped his eyes shut and turned away. "I don't want you to remember my face on this… This…" His voice broke. He looked down at his violently tremulous fists.

Angela got to her feet. "Genji-"

" _This thing!_ " Genji screamed suddenly. The terrible sound echoed down the alleys. Angela's heart stopped.

"Genji, we can fix you," she said. "We can give you… I can remove the weapons, I can make you-"

"You cannot make me human again," Genji said. "Not what's in my mind. My heart." Before Angela could say anything, he blurted out, "It's a killer's heart, Angela. Maybe…" He looked her in the eyes one last time. They were utterly, terrifyingly wrong. "Maybe this _is_ the body that suits me."

"Genji, just come back," Angela said. "Let me _help._ "

Genji turned his back and walked over the bodies of the dead men. Angela chased after him.

"Let me help!" she repeated. She tripped over a corpse, blood-water splashing and staining her white uniform.

She could not muster the will to stand again, even as her powerless arms tried to force her. She could not help him. And in that moment, only he mattered. Genji Shimada, her patient. Her friend. Her monster, disappeared into the night.

She had ruined him.


	4. Part 4

IV

The storm of dust and the chaotic battle occurring at the front side of the omnium covered Jack's tracks well. The only resistance he encountered were a few stray reanimated omnics guarding the rear. He ignored most, drove over the ones in his way. The God Program would know he was coming if it already didn't suspect, but if Winston's plan went through, that wouldn't be something he needed to worry about.

Once Jack reached the outskirts of the park, he immediately began mapping an escape route. He passed a defunct power plant, a collapsed building that might have once been a restaurant, and a factory. The roads were pale grey, rough and ruined. Semantic thing to notice. His truck hovered unaffected on repulsor jets.

The omnium had been in view for long while, it was impossible not to notice. It resembled a giant microscope. A square base below a long cylinder, leaning over slightly. Jack wasn't certain if that angle was a design choice or a result of disrepair.

The shipping yard of the omnium swarmed with reanimated omnics. At least thirty. Jack accelerated. The truck rammed through the gates, knocking down an entire cluster of them. He popped open the door, knocking away another three. He climbed to the top of the truck's cab and slung the pulse rifle on his shoulder back into his hands, opening fire.

They moved predictably. Jack had no difficulty picking them all off. Aided by his tac visor, it took no time at all to clear the yard. A single zombie, missing its legs and one arm, clawed at his shin. Jack stomped its head in. With nothing else to do, he explored the yard, separating the omnic's limbs from the rest of their bodies, ensuring they wouldn't rise again.

The command center had dropped, blocking the main exit, fifteen minutes ago. Jack climbed into the truck and backed it in next to loading bay 9.

Right as he got there, Mei opened the door. Behind her, Fareeha and Winston pushed the God Program's housing onto the truck. There were four repulsor-lifts stuck to the bottom of the thing, but physics still applied. Getting and keeping something about the same weight and twice the size of a car moving was still an ordeal, even without worrying about friction.

"Damn," Jack said looking back, arm slung over the seat. "Is that… Loki? Thought it was dead."

"So did I," said Winston.

Jack then saw Angela pushing her own makeshift cart. It was made from a large piece of sheet metal and two repulsor-lifts. It was wobbly, but Genji was helping to balance it. Resting on the cart were three soldiers, expressions frozen into pain. Two were Helix, and one was Talon. Angela switched off the repulsor-lifts and immediately began to operate on the Talon soldier, who was the worst off.

"Go," said Winston, once the truck was loaded. "Go!"

"Shotgun!" Mei said, climbing into the passenger seat.

Jack threw it into gear and drove at max speed. Genji maneuvered to the top of the cab and watched. Angela continued to use her Caduceus staff to heal the soldier's wounds. It wasn't working as quickly as it had before, and her suit glowed just a little weaker than it had been.

"Commander!" Genji said. "We've got some guests!"

After a moment's realization, Jack knew he wasn't the one being addressed. He looked anyway. Three black-armored Talon vehicles were in pursuit, and two terribly rusted ramshackle vehicles alongside them. One was a motorcycle with a very large man sitting atop it, the other looked most like a Humvee, but not really like anything. They were distant, but catching up fast.

"Mei!" said Jack. "Drive!"

She complied, face turning red with stress.

Jack slung himself onto the top of the cab and took aim at one of the vehicles with his tac-visor.

"Say the word, commander," said Jack. "I've got them in my sights."

"Open fire!" said Winston.

The first vehicle exploded into blue flames and nearly took out the Humvee, but it spun madly out of the way, regaining its course effortlessly. The motorcycle accelerated, the exaggeratedly long exhaust pipes belching flame and smoke.

"Got this," said Fareeha. She shot the bike, but it swerved out of the way just in time. "Damn it!" she shouted, firing another.

"Hold fire!" Jack said. "These yellow vehicles don't look like much, but they've got Junkers driving them."

"So what do we do!?"

The vehicles were gaining still. The bald general had emerged from the largest Talon vehicle and activated its turret.

"Take out that turret, Pharah!" Winston said.

"Affirmative," she said. After manually loading a pair of fresh rockets into her launcher, she blasted into the sky. By her swooping and rising maneuvers, the general was hard-pressed to get a lock on her.

The motorcycle's driver threw a chain, locking onto the side of the truck. Genji jumped down, intending to cut it, but another chain grabbed him right out of the air, and dragged him right to the bike.

"Genji!" Angela shouted.

A shot rang out, but Genji survived. His lithe body weaved around the colossal biker's frame like a squirrel on a tree. The chain kept the bike firmly on the truck's trail, however, so the biker could fight without distraction.

A rail-thin man with wild hair and a rat-like face sprung up onto the top of the yellow Humvee. He manned a turret, lobbing basketball-sized grenades in their general direction. All it did was make it a little harder for Mei to drive. There must have been two mercs in that car.

They passed under the power plant, weaving through inactive substations. The biker regained just enough control of his vehicle to avoid hitting any. The General's vehicle turned, opting to instead go around the plant. The Humvee hit a ramp and jumped right over the station, landing right next to the truck.

The man on the turret was possessed with an ear-to-ear smile. Jack aimed into the window of the Humvee to find that the driver's seat was not just empty, but gone. Another glance, and Jack realized that the man on the turret was sitting in the driver's seat, manning the weapons and driving at once.

The rat laughed and lobbed a grenade at him. Winston caught it and threw it right back. He decelerated, falling slightly behind, then drove through the fiery explosion like it was nothing.

Genji crashed against the God Program's housing. "He's tough," he spat.

The biker then climbed over the side of the truck, brandishing hook and gun. Jack leapt forth, firing his pulse rifle. Winston laid down a dome-shield to protect him and Angela. The biker stepped inside the dome, shrugging off the bullets, and grabbed Jack by the head. He slammed it once into the side of the God Program's housing. Jack's head bloomed with a bright surge of pain, and his eyes lost focus. The Biker threw Jack away, the momentum of the truck carrying his body to the edge. Jack barely gripped the side of the trailer. He fought the clouds of agony and pulled himself back up. The biker was tapping a sequence on the side of the Program before Winston grabbed him and they both barreled over the side.

"Winston!" Jack shouted. But then he saw the yellow Humvee swoop uncannily behind the truck, managing to catch the mound of wrestling muscle on its trunk. Jack daren't shoot the biker for fear that he might hit his comrade. He couldn't shoot the man on the turret, for fear that if he lost control, Winston would die in the crash.

Angela cast out a tether from her staff, but not golden, as usual. This one was blue. Winston was filled with such strength that he overpowered the biker easily, straddling and punching him, each strike rewarded with a spray of blood and a crack. Winston's face was red with rage.

The rat saw what was happening, and aimed for Angela. Effortlessly whipping her blaster from her wing, she shot each of his grenades out of the air before they hit. Jack assisted, using his tac visor. Seeing his ally's straits, and seemingly having an idea, the rat decelerated again, out of the range of Angela's tether. The chain reached its maximum length just outside Angela's range. However, Winston had already weakened the hog severely. The rat swerved desperately, trying to knock the enraged ape off, but Winston held fast, continuing his advance. The Humvee suddenly swerved behind a building, and Jack lost it.

"Shit," Jack growled. "I'm taking active command! We keep to the plan, get the Program to the rendezvous. We'll have to trust Winston to handle himself." Jack muttered off-comm. "Hear me, kid? No dying."

The General dropped from the sky, right on top of Loki. Her vehicle suddenly crashed to the ground, undercarriage scraping the ground briefly. Jack didn't even have time to wonder when they'd gotten up there. She threw down a maglock disk, which turned red, an invisible tether of force cast out toward the bulk of the Talon tank, and Jack heard the groaning of stressed metal.

The General hefted two LMGs, one in each hand. Chains of high-caliber slugs hanging from her backpack fed into them. She opened fire. Jack laid down a biotic field and Angela backed him up with her healing staff. It was agony to feel bullets rip through him and immediately heal, but he bore it, pelting the general's body with pulse rounds. She ducked behind Loki, and Jack fell the ground, taking cover on the other side under Loki's foot. Angela joined him.

"Jack, we don't have any more time," she said. "We couldn't disable her lock even if we could get close to it. We need to disable _our_ maglocks now."

"Give up the Program!? Angela, this is what Talon wants, we can't just give it to them. We take care of her, we climb onto the cab, they'll give up the chase when-" Jack trailed off, seeing the injured soldiers on the truck bed. They couldn't just climb onto the cab, much less stay there. Anymore lost time, they might all die.

"Winston shackled it," Angela said. "And I doubt he made it easy to break."

"Goddamn it," he said. He tapped out a sequence on the locks, and the display turned blue.

"Get them clear," Jack said. He laid down covering fire for Angela as she rushed. The General fired back. Her guns suddenly exploded into icy spikes, glued to Loki. Snowball giggled mischievously, and the General slammed her free fist down on him, trying to crush him. The drone then slid away back to the front of the truck, cackling all the way.

Jack punched the button, and Loki slid off the trailer. He side-stepped, avoiding the housing. The General screamed in frustration and terror as she and Loki's conjoined mass flew into the tank, stopping it dead.

"Nice one, Dr. Zhou!" Jack said.

Mei looked back and made a jaunty two-fingered salute, the truck veered slightly. Her face reddened in chagrin as the truck jerked back into the center of the road. "S-Sorry, Jack!"

Snowball grumbled.

"You too, little guy."

The buildings blocking the omnium blasted off. If any Talon were unlucky enough to be inside them, they would have been crushed by the intense G-Forces.

They'd gotten away, but Jack still didn't feel like he could count this as a victory. Talon vehicles swarmed around the tank like rodents picking at a corpse. They'd lost the AI. And they may very well have lost their commander.

…

There was no reason to drive the truck any longer. Athena brought the Orca about and picked up the team. Ana was in the Orca, and greeted Jack with smile of solidarity. With a slightly better med bay than the back of a truck, Angela and Ana were much more able to fix up the soldiers they'd saved. At least there was that.

Fareeha had caught up with them not that long after. She sent out a signal to come to the old camp. It was as good a place as any to wait for Winston, and organize the search. She and her best pilot joined Jack in his search for Winston. They'd briefly flown over the husk of the industrial park, looking for Loki, but it and Talon were long gone.

"That was," Ana blew air out of her pursed lips, "incredible," she said. "Looks like Overwatch hasn't lost its touch."

Jack smiled listlessly. "Incredible might fit if we'd actually done what we were going to do," he said. "We lost Loki, and probably Winston."

"We saved some good men," said Ana. "and we stopped the conflict. This place will know peace again. And you don't know that. Winston's a smart boy."

"You were telling me not that long ago that he wasn't a soldier," Jack said.

Ana shrugged and smiled. "He's not," she agreed. "But he is a smart boy."

"Someone's in a good mood," Jack said, bringing the Orca in for a landing.

"I got my daughter back," Ana said. "I can't think of anything better."

Fareeha greeted them outside the door, standing at attention, helmet under her arm. "Sirs," she said.

Jack waved his hand, "You don't have to…" he said, dismissively.

"I do," Fareeha said. "Commander."

"Hold on," said Jack. "First, you're Helix, not Overwatch. Second, even if you were, I'm not the commander. _Acting_ commander."

"Very well," Fareeha said. "Then I'll wait for Winston."

Ana piped up, "Fareeha, what is this? You work for Helix. You can't just quit and come work for…"

"My career with Helix is over," she said. "Two squads wiped under my command, collaborating with Overwatch terrorists, violating Petras." She paused. "I've already sent in my resignation."

Jack sighed and groaned. "It's not up to us, Ana," he said.

"I suppose not," Ana said. "But..."

"Overwatch is where I am meant to be," said Fareeha. "Where I was always meant to be. I hope you understand, mother. I know it's not what you wanted."

Ana's lips pulled back warmly. "I was going to say," she said. "But I think it's a good chance Winston will let her in. She's capable. A welcome addition to our little band, wouldn't you say, Jack?"

Jack nodded.

"Commander Morrison!" Genji shouted. He tried to look casual as he waved, it didn't work. "Did you find Winston?"

"No," Jack answered. "I-"

In the distance, Jack saw a vehicle advancing towards the camp. Fareeha held up her launcher.

"I don't have any more scouts out there," she said.

"Hold fire, Amari," Jack said.

As it came closer, Jack saw its form, the rusted mustard brown box that looked most like a Humvee. Jack stepped forward and raised his hand, one thumb up. A massive arm stuck out the side of the vehicle, pantomiming him. A massive hand covered in white armor and blue-black fur.

Relief and joy overpowered Jack's heart.

The vehicle came to a stop.

"Sorry I was late," said Winston. He reached to adjust his glasses, only to find remember that they were broken, and in his pocket. "Had to take out the trash."

He popped open the trunk. Inside, bound, gagged, and unconscious, were the two Junkers.

"You might want to get magcuffs on them before they wake up," said Winston. "I had to knock out the big one like three times."

…

All done, all said, Jack now had the final matter to attend to. He went alone to the medical tent.

Angela was there, monitoring the vitals of the three soldiers, working on her Caduceus staff. Not resting, like a lesser woman might have done.

"Jack," she said. "Please come in."

"You… Don't look like you're going anywhere," Jack said.

"I'm not," she said. "I'm going to take care of these people, and keep an eye on these prisoners until the authorities come for them. You're probably the one who should leave. Authorities don't take especially kindly to terrorists." She smiled. "Even the nice kind."

Jack swallowed, not realizing that he hadn't worn his mask. "That's… Good." He said. "I appreciate it."

"You did a good thing today," Angela said. "You should all be very proud."

"Look, Angela," Jack said. Angela's smile stiffened and shrunk. "I'm sorry."

She looked thoughtfully into Jack's eyes. Not what she was expecting.

"I'm sorry for what I put you through. I've been… I've been around long enough to know that old wounds don't heal. Forgiveness doesn't work that way. I know that it's going to be a long time before you trust me or Overwatch again. Maybe you never will. I'm not going to ask you to come back. I don't deserve you. But I swear on everything I have that I will fight to prove that Overwatch is different now. That _I_ am different now."

Angela smiled again, genuinely. "You didn't come to say how much you need me back?"

"I came to say goodbye."

Angela shook her head. "Not goodbye. _Bis Naccher._ "

 _See you later._

…

"So, I want to know two things," said Genji. He and Winston were in the Orca. A cup of tea sat on the table in front him, he hadn't taken a sip. In front of Winston was a half-empty jar of peanut butter and a mug of coffee. "First, how did you take out two of those guys at once?"

"They were already pretty worn down," said Winston. "and one was driving."

"Okay," Genji nodded. "Second, how could Athena resist Loki's hack and hack him in less than a minute?"

"Well," said Winston, adjusting his newly repaired glasses. "She's a God. A God Program."

Genji rocked back, crossing his arms. "Really?"

"Not every God was causing havoc in the Crisis," said Winston. "Most were. Others disappeared into the net. One stayed here and helped."

"Athena," Genji said.

"Next to Athena, Loki is a dial-up modem," Winston explained. "It was easy."

" _Easy,_ " Genji scoffed. "You remember I _died?_ "

Winston paused. "Vividly."

"Well, I'm just glad we're not the ones who got the one who was weak and shackled. Like _someone_ did."

"Still bothering me that Loki was resurrecting dead omnics," said Winston. "I wish I had more time to study it."

"Whatever comes, we'll be ready. After all, we beat this one."

Winston smiled. Jack came in.

"I've done everything I need to," he said. "Ready for take-off?"

"Just waiting for you, Jack," Winston said, standing up and heading for the cockpit. Genji followed and sat himself in the co-pilot's seat.

"You asked your questions," he said. "Now I'll ask one of mine. You said you were trying to recruit others to the cause, but now you're joining up? What changed?"

Genji was silent for a long moment. Then he said, "Because I must no longer beg for others to defend themselves. To fight must be one's own choice. A wise woman told me that once."

Taking his meaning, Winston locked his gaze on the display. He knew Jack had heard it as well. Today had not been the resounding victory Winston had hoped for. In fact, the one person they had come to this place for was the one person they were leaving without. But a leader's job was to keep morale high. Winston thought for a too-long moment about what to say. He thought about what the old Jack would say. He couldn't. Winston would do.

"She'll come around," he said. "She's a defender, a healer. We'll prove that Overwatch is a force for good again. When we do it right, good people will come to us."

Jack looked away and sat down, contemplating what had been said. Genji's head leaned back, relaxed into a mood that almost perfectly resembled a contented smile.

…

Jack sat silently. Across the room, at the table, Ana, Mei, and Fareeha engaged in alternatingly hushed and raised voices something he couldn't hear.

Looking out the window at the thickening white clouds, he imagined, far behind them, Angela, watching the Orca's exhaust plume. Her unwrinkled features frozen like porcelain in deep thought. She watched just as she'd be watching everything now.

" _What will you do, Jack?"_ she asked. _"What will you do?"_

…

"Winston!" shouted Lena. No one was expecting to see her at the Watchpoint. She hugged him warmly, brunette hair splashing against his chest. "Ow." She said. Her arms had not fully healed, and she had a very slight bruise on her cheek.

Lena looked at the new arrivals, Fareeha Amari and Genji Shimada. But…

"Where's Angela?" Lena said, quietly.

"Long story," said Winston.

Winston finally noticed the figures waiting in the wings. A man in a cowboy hat and bright red poncho, and a slightly shorter one with a ponytail and single-sleeved robe.

"Jesse?" said Winston, incredulous. "Where did- How?"

"Howdy, big guy," said Jesse McCree. "I'm back."

"And that," said Lena, "Is Hanzo. Say hiya, Hanzo!"

"Hello," scowled the other.

"We've met," said Genji, casually stepping over. The joy in his voice was barely restrained. He clapped his hand onto Hanzo's wrist and brought him in for a brotherly embrace. "It is good to see you here, brother."

"Whoa there, tats," said McCree. "You're Genji's brother? Why didn't you say so?"

Hanzo stood stiffly, some expression wrinkled his lips. Guilt? Genji pulled away.

"Yes, I am." Hanzo said. "Though I…" Hanzo shook his head. "We have much to discuss."

Genji paused, long and thoughtfully. Winston knew the story between the two, but only pieces. He knew enough to know that Genji was not acting like he was speaking to the man who had tried to murder him. That was probably what they had to 'discuss.'

"You've been busy," Jack said to Lena. "Maybe we should leave you home more often."

"Oi, not on your life, bozo! I don't care if I've lost these arms by the next mission, I'm coming with!"

"You won't have to worry about that," Ana said. "Jack and I picked up a few tricks from the good doctor. You'll be back in action before you know it."

Lena's face brightened into a huge smile, and the old soldier couldn't help but smile back.

…

Fist brushed his fingers against the black sheen of Loki's housing. The rise and fall of the green lights was faint, like the breaths of a sleeping beast. He smiled as it shuddered.

"Shackled you, did they?" he whispered. "You deserve it. Putting me through all this trouble. I'd have done it myself if they hadn't." Fist stood up. "Oh, but you'll do nicely, won't you?"

To be continued.


End file.
